A Flicker Of Hope
by Moultipass1
Summary: His daughter was not someone who trusted easily, especially after her time at court, but she seemed to have taken a reluctant liking to the one they had nicknamed the Bull. He shook his head. What was it with Starks and Baratheons?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm new to this fandom, I hope I will do it justice! I know the story wouldn't be nearly as interesting if Joffrey hadn't killed Ned... But this idea just wouldn't leave me alone, because I can't help but feel if Ned had survived, he would have been president of the 'Arya&Gendry rock!' club :D Sorry if this has been done before. This is me trying my hand at GoT fanfiction, being really nervous about it, and begging for reviews!**

**I will try to keep them in character, but what are fanfictions for, if not to write and read things the actual writers would never give us? :) (BTW, in case anyone was wondering, I'm not one of them, none of this is mine, not even Gendry – damn, I hate disclaimers) **

**You're safe on the spoilers front if you've seen the first two seasons of the show and/or read the first two books. It will be mostly AU after 1x09 anyway**

**I want to say a huge thank you to dismembered constellations for beta-ing this story and for being really patient with me :)  
**

**I need to stop rambling now because the author's note is going to be longer than the prologue. The first chapter will be up soon, I promise.**

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

**ARYA**

"My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the Black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father."

There was a moment's hesitation as _King_ Joffrey seemed to consider his next words, and Arya felt the apprehension turn into terror as she allowed herself to think, for the first time, that her father could die before the end of the day. Her prayers were answered.

"The Night's Watch does need strong men. Let the traitor die protecting us from the evils that lurk beyond the Wall."

The relief was such and the roar from the crowd so loud that she didn't hear a word that was said after that. Just as she was about to climb down from her vantage point and run into her father's arms, she felt a strong hand grab her wrist and drag her to the ground. "Come with me."

The voice was vaguely familiar and didn't seem threatening, but she still struggled out of sheer habit until a hard slap across the face left her almost unconscious. She felt herself being pushed against a wall and recovered just enough to understand what the foul-smelling old man said next.

"Didn't you hear the King? Sansa Stark is now his hostage, and if he gets his hands on you, you will be too. Is that what you want, _boy_?"

For some reason, that got a reaction from her.

"I'm not a boy!"

The man she now recognised as Yoren, of the Night's Watch, pushed her harder against the wall and she glared at him.

"Not a smart _boy_, that what you mean to say?"

That's when she saw the knife in his hands and decided maybe it would be smarter to keep her mouth shut for the next few minutes... or years. As he cut her hair with his blade, she heard him mutter "North, _boy_. We're going North."

And that's when she really stopped struggling. Because North meant home, and that was all that mattered right now.

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: I can't believe how many alerts, favourites and reviews I got after such a short prologue! They made my day :D **

**As promised, here is the first chapter. I used some of the scenes from the show and book and altered them a little because I wanted them to fit in my version of the story (and because I was so disappointed when they didn't get to go ahead with that fight). After this chapter, everything should come straight from my own imagination.**

**Still don't own them.**

* * *

**EDDARD**

He had thought his chances of surviving this day were slim, but it seemed he would live to see another winter after all. Of course, the situation was far from perfect. Joffrey Baratheon – _Lannister_, he thought bitterly – had clearly stated that he was keeping his daughters as prisoners and would not hesitate to kill them if the Starks made the slightest mistake, which Ned knew meant if anyone were to learn of his true lineage through them. The King probably didn't know that Ned was not worried about Arya, because of three reasons. First, Varys had told him that even his little birds couldn't find her. Second, he had seen Yoren drag her from the statue of Baelor earlier. And third, he could see her right now, as those who were destined to join the Night's Watch were getting ready to leave King's Landing. He could never thank Yoren enough for what he was doing for his family. The old man had only needed to throw Arya a dark look when it had looked like she was going to run to him as he had joined the group, and his daughter had managed to stay where she was, realizing that she needed to stay an anonymous orphan boy for as long as possible. The King and his mother would continue looking for her so they could have more leverage against the Starks, and the less people knew who she really was, the better.

He realized this whole anonymous thing was going to be hard when he saw two older boys picking on her and had to refrain from running to her side. He had to suppress a smile when she drew Needle and used the fat boy's arm to drag herself up from the ground, threatening "You want it? I'll give it to you!"

He had just started to turn away, feeling better about his daughter's safety knowing that she wouldn't hesitate to defend herself, when a new voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Oh, you like picking on the little ones, do you? You know, I've been hammering anvil these past ten years. When I hit that steel, it sings. You gonna sing when I hit you?"

Ned turned back, stunned. What was Robert's bastard son doing here? Thobo Mott, he realized as the boy told Arya that he was here because his master had gotten sick of him. The armorer had known who Gendry was, Ned was sure of it. With Joffrey now King and rumours of Robert's bastards being hunted down, Mott had decided King's Landing wasn't safe for the boy anymore. An interesting development, he thought as he watched his daughter and Robert's son. They made a strange picture, the small girl barely reaching his shoulder, but obviously ready to tackle him to the ground if he so much as looked like he might try to take Needle from her, and the strong boy oblivious to her wariness.

So... He was alive, all but one of his children were relatively safe, and he trusted Robb would do whatever it took to ensure Sansa's safety as well. Joffrey, Stannis and Renly Baratheon were probably going to fight for the crown. And he was on his way to the Wall with Arya and a boy would could arguably have the most legitimate claim to the Iron Throne. A very interesting day, indeed. If he could manage to send word to Cat and Robb... His thoughts were interrupted by Yoren's loud voice.

"Come on, you sorry sons of whores! It's a thousand leagues from here to the Wall. And winter is coming."

Ned almost smiled. For the first time since Robert had set foot in Winterfell almost a year ago, he felt a flicker of hope.

This hope lasted for a while. They managed to leave King's Landing without incident, the guards at the gates not even glancing their way. Being led by a Brother of the Night's Watch who was often seen in the capital and trusted by most had its advantages. Ned kept an eye on Arya most of the time, but soon realized that she would probably be alright without his protection, especially since a certain armorer's apprentice seemed to have appointed himself her personal guard, without her being aware of it.

That was a bit strange, actually. Ned had liked the boy well enough when he had met him a few months ago, but he would not have figured him for someone who would come to a stranger's rescue with no good reason. Then again, he knew his daughter was not someone who trusted easily, especially after her time at court, but she seemed to have taken a reluctant liking to the one they had nicknamed the Bull.

He shook his head. What was it with Starks and Baratheons? Even when one was a bastard who didn't even _know_ he was a Baratheon, and the other was travelling under a false identity, it seemed the two families were drawn to each other – or, maybe, more accurately, thrown together. "Arry" and Gendry made unlikely friends, that much was true. While the orphan _boy_ was almost constantly chatting away and getting into fights with the boys, the smith rarely spoke unless someone talked to him first and would spend hours just polishing his helm. Yet, somehow, it seemed to fit. The former Hand of the King finally understood why on their sixth day on the road.

After his daughter got into an altercation with the three men considered dangerous enough to be kept in a cage (for which Ned would have reprimanded her if he could have), she asked the Bull if he wanted to fight, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The answer was immediate.

"I'd hurt you."

"You would not."

"You don't know how strong I am."

He had a point there. Ned had seen him working in the forge, the hammer an extension of his arm, the muscles hard beneath the skin, the movements powerful and precise. He didn't think Arya realized the boy could knock her unconscious with one single blow.

"You don't know how quick I am."

Ned had to smile at that. Well, she had a point too. He couldn't very well knock her unconscious if he couldn't touch her.

The boy shrugged as Arya handed him a wooden stick and raised one of her own.

Ned watched, fascinated, as Gendry half-heartedly tried to hit her and was rewarded with a blow to the leg, his daughter moving so quickly he barely had time to see what was happening. Shocked, the boy took a step back and smiled when he realized she had not been lying. Arya resumed her position, sideways, and waited for his next attempt. He was better prepared this time and jumped back when she managed to block his stick and countered his attack with one of her own.

It was then, seeing his daughter having fun for the first time in weeks, seeing the boy following her lead without so much as a complaint every time she managed to hit him, that Ned realized what made this odd friendship work.

Arya simply had too much energy, and Gendry seemed to be the only one able – or willing – to absorb it.

* * *

**ARYA**

Hitting Gendry was _fun_, she decided. The other boys she had fought with hadn't been nearly as fun. There had been her brothers, but Rickon was too young, Bran was a sore loser, Robb refused to practise with her because he didn't want to hurt her, and Jon usually let her win despite her protests. Micah had been terrified of hitting her because she was a highborn, and he screamed whenever her stick found its way to his body anyway, she remembered with a sad thought for her dead friend. And, well, she had duelled with Syrio, but it was not like she had succeeded in hitting him a lot.

Gendry was holding back, she was aware of it, but only in strength, and that she could allow: he was not trying not to hit her, he was just making sure his blows weren't as brutal as he could probably have made them. She supposed she should actually be grateful for that, since he had not been lying about how strong he was. She would have bruises all over her body on the morrow.

And when she hit him, he just frowned or smiled, depending on if he had seen it coming or not, and then he fought back, forcing her to practice her defensive moves as well.

Right here, right now, she wasn't thinking about Sansa being a prisoner, she wasn't thinking about Jory or Syrio's death, she wasn't thinking about her father taking the Black or about being unable to talk to him for fear of being found out as his daughter, she wasn't thinking about the war that was most certainly going to destroy the realm in the next few years if Robert Baratheon's brothers decided to fight for the Iron Throne, she wasn't thinking about the fact that she could not remember what it felt like to be warm, she wasn't thinking about Winterfell being such a long and dangerous way from where she stood.

No, all she was thinking was _Quiet as a shadow, light as a feather, calm as still water, strong as a bear_ – although that one applied more to her sparring partner than to her – _fierce as a wolverine_. Oh, and _By the Gods, that hurt!_ when Gendry hit her shoulder.

And it felt bloody good.

They definitely should have done this sooner.

After a particularly vicious blow to the knee, she tripped on a rock and fell backwards, landing in the dirt with a loud thump that knocked the air from her lungs. The Bull held his hand out to help her up, the apology clear in his eyes, but he was wise enough not to say sorry out loud. However, he did whisper a few words that managed to shock her more that the fall had.

"You alright, m'lady?"

She froze, then raised her eyes to his face. His smirk told her she had heard him right and he had meant exactly what he'd said. Throwing panicked glances around them, she let out a relieved sigh when she saw that no one was close enough to have heard him. She looked at him again, all smug and tall and grinning and _stupid_, and hissed "What did you just call me?"

"I'm sorry, m'lady", he said with feigned uncertainty. "What would you have me call you?"

"Certainly not _that_!" And then, for good measure, she added "I'm a _boy_!"

"No, you're not. Do you think I'm as stupid as the rest of them?"

"Stupider. The Night's Watch doesn't take girls."

"That's true, but you're still a girl."

"I am not!"

He was growing annoyed with her, she could feel it even though he was still amused as well, judging by his small smile.

"Then pull out your cock and take a piss."

Momentarily stunned, she kept silent for a second before weakly replying:

"I don't need to take a piss."

The way he raised his eyebrows told her the battle was lost. She thought for only a short while before she surrendered and sat down right where she was. Apparently surprised by her behavior, he hesitated before sitting down next to her and nudging her shoulder, encouraging her to talk. She sighed and officially introduced herself.

"I'm Arya Stark."

She saw his eyes go wide with recognition, and noted for the first time how blue they were. That reaction was exactly what she had been afraid of.

"You really are a lady", he said, sounding surprised.

"I thought you knew."

"I knew you were a girl, I had no idea you were a highborn! Listen, I'm..."

"If you say sorry, I'm going to hit harder next time we practice."

He chuckled at that, and she felt the tension in her muscles ease a little when she allowed herself to think that his knowing who she was may not be such a bad thing. He stayed silent for a while, and she realized he was looking at her father, a few feet away. She sighed again and explained:

"The Queen would use me against my family. Yoren is taking me back to Winterfell. The others can't find out."

"They won't. Not from me."

Silence again. And then, because she couldn't help but wonder, she asked:

"How long have you known?"

He shrugged.

"A few days."

It was her turn to be surprised.

"And you agreed to fight anyway?"

That made him laugh.

"Like my refusing would have stopped you. I'd be halfway dead by now if I hadn't agreed to defend myself."

Chuckling, she was about to reply when the sound of thundering hooves had them both jumping to their feet.

"Gold Cloaks", she whispered, exchanging a worried glance with her father before swiftly hiding behind a tree.

The Bull stayed a few feet in front of her, completely blocking her from the road. But just as the Gold Cloaks were approaching enough for their voices to be heard, she saw her father come to him and heard him say:

"You too, Gendry."

"What?"

"Hide with him. If anything happens, you two run. Arry, get him to Maester Luwin."

"What?"

But her father was already walking away to talk to the Gold Cloaks with Yoren. Stunned, she looked at Gendry as he did what he had been told and hid behind her, his chest pressed against her back as they both held their breath, trying to make sense of what was happening without actually seeing anything. A voice she didn't recognize was saying something about Queen Cersei, and she heard Yoren reply that the Night's Watch had nothing to do with matters of the realm. Then the other man shouted for all to hear:

"We are looking for a boy named Gendry. We are told he never goes anywhere without his bull helm. We will be back for him. Whoever gives him to us will be rewarded. Whoever gets in the way..." He didn't finish his sentence, but the threat was clear.

When she was certain the Gold Cloaks had left, Arya turned around to look at her friend, pushed him away from her, and asked accusingly:

"What does the Queen want with you?"

"No idea."

"Liar."

He shrugged like he didn't care what she thought, and that made her angrier. She was aware it was actually the fear that was making her furious, but it didn't matter, she wanted answers. So she asked again:

"What does the Queen want with you?"

There was a flash of anger in his eyes when he replied sharply:

"Why don't you ask your father? He sure seems to know a lot more than me."

And he stomped away, leaving her stunned, confused, mad, and, if she was completely honest with herself, still a little bit scared.

Stupid Bull.

* * *

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or put the story on alert/favourites, I write faster when I know people are reading *hint, hint* :)**

* * *

**EDDARD**

He didn't want to think about what the Gold Cloaks had done to Thobo Mott to make him talk. He couldn't do anything about it, dwelling on it would be a waste of time, and he had more pressing matters to attend to. Thankfully, that night, they managed to get shelter in an inn and, though he knew the others would hate him for it, he asked for his own private room, paying for it with one of the only things of value he had left, a ring worth one small house. Then, he waited. Just as he had expected, there was a knock on his door in the middle of the night. With a soft smile, he opened it and Arya slipped into the room, quiet as a shadow. He didn't have the time to say anything before she threw herself in his arms. After seeing her survive the dangers of the road and hold her own against those boys, all older and stronger than her, he had forgotten how small she was. He lifted her off the ground to hug her properly. This was the first time since his imprisonment that they were alone together, and he hated to ruin it, but he had to ask.

"Did anyone see you?"

She shook her head against his shoulder and finally disentangled herself from his embrace. Smiling what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he motioned for her to sit on the bed and he knelt in front of her. He didn't have to wait long before she asked:

"What does the Queen want with Gendry?"

He had expected her to start with something else, like what they were going to do about Sansa, if she would still see him once he had taken the Black, what would happen when they reached Winterfell, but he had underestimated her. She must at least have an idea about all that, but her curiosity about the events of the day was just too pressing to keep quiet. Sighing, he lowered his head.

"It's complicated. But I need you to help me, Arya."

She bit her lip, like she always did when she was unhappy about something but understood how serious the situation was and would do what was asked of her. He had considered writing a sealed letter he could give to Arya or Gendry, with strict orders not to open it unless they didn't have a choice, but letters were dangerous, and if they fell into the hands of Lannister men... The Bull would be dead before the reader even got to the end of the message. He had also considered talking directly to the boy, but had decided against that too. He would ask too many questions, questions Ned couldn't answer without putting him in danger. Arya would have questions too, but he was her father. He could tell her no more than she needed to know and order her not to ask questions.

He'd had the whole evening and most of the night to think about what he was going to say, so he didn't hesitate.

"If for some reason Gendry cannot reach the Wall, I want you to bring him to Winterfell. Let either your mother or Maester Luwin see him, and tell them he needs protection from Queen Cersei, they will know what to do."

"You talked about Maester Luwin this morning. Why him? Why Mother?"

Because he trusted them and, more importantly, because like him, they had both known Robert when he had been about the same age as Gendry was today. Anyone who had known the late King when he was but a lord and who looked at the boy closely would see Robert's strength, his striking blue eyes, his thick black hair, his stubbornness, his smirk. Knowing that, and knowing the Queen was after the boy, Cat and Maester Luwin could draw conclusions and take the necessary measures.

Realizing he wasn't going to answer her questions, Arya pouted but nodded and simply asked:

"What shall I tell him?"

"Nothing."

"He won't come with me if he doesn't know why."

"I know how persuasive you can be, I'm not worried."

She smiled a little at that. Because she thought she could convince Gendry, or because despite her objection, she knew it wouldn't take much convincing to get him to go wherever she went, he couldn't have said.

"I miss you."

The words were so soft that he wasn't sure she had actually said them until he saw the shy expression on her face. He swallowed over the lump in his throat, brought his hand to her face, and tenderly kissed her forehead before whispering "I miss you too."

There was a short silence, and then she spoke again in the same small voice.

"When Joffrey was talking, I really thought... I thought he was going to ask for your head. I cannot even imagine..."

"He couldn't kill me without risking a war. I'm not even sure he's managed to avoid a war, Robb will want him dead for keeping Sansa prisoner and for sending me to the Wall."

At the mention of the Wall, her mood seemed to brighten.

"You will be with Jon."

"Aye", he smiled.

"Can I go with you?" she asked hopefully.

He laughed.

"And do what?"

"Join the Night's Watch!"

"No girls are allowed."

"I know. But that's just stupid. They also say girls can't be knights, yet Old Nan told us stories about Brienne of Tarth, she said that she won tournaments and could fight better than most men, and..."

"Arya."

Her voice trailed off when she heard the reprimand in his. She looked away. He knew they were not done with this conversation, but he also knew that she couldn't stay out of the common room much longer without raising suspicions, so he said:

"We'll talk about it some other time, all right?"

She sighed, nodded and stood up. But before she reached the door, she turned back to look at him and confessed:

"Gendry knows who I am. I'm sorry, he guessed I was a girl and..."

He interrupted her with a small smile.

"I don't think he will betray you. Do you?"

"No. But you didn't think everyone was going to betray you back in King's Landing, did you?"

He had nothing to say to that.

* * *

**ARYA**

She had lost track of time. They had been on the road for weeks, but she could not say if it was two or ten. Probably less than ten, if she had to guess, since Winterfell was only a month's ride from King's Landing in good conditions, with horses and travelling by the King's Road. Yoren had made sure they stayed off the main road in order to avoid the Gold Cloaks, and they were very slow, so it would probably take twice as much time, but no more than that. Maybe five or six weeks. Two or three more and she would be home.

To her great surprise, Lommy had had a good idea a few days earlier. They'd found a dead boy in the woods, a lad of maybe five-and-ten. An infected wound in the shoulder had killed him. Lommy had suggested the Bull leave his helm next to the dead boy so that the Gold Cloaks would mistake him for Gendry and report his death to Cersei. It had taken a lot to convince the bull-headed boy to part with his precious helm. They had ended up duelling for it, agreeing that if she managed to hit him with her stick ten times before he hit her ten times, then he would do it. She had won ten to eight.

Now he was relatively safe, or at least she hoped he was. He hadn't asked any questions, and that too was a relief. She had no idea what she would have told him since she didn't really know anything. His attitude suggested he was used to things happening to him and he thought it was easier to just go with it. After all, he was a bastard boy, an orphan an armourer had taken under his wing for no apparent reason before getting rid of him, again for no apparent reason. Maybe he was right after all. Asking questions made things too complicated.

They had enough to worry about as it was. Food was becoming a concern. Even with the two poachers who were travelling with them to the Wall, even if they managed to catch a fish once in awhile when they were near the river, even if the last time they had passed a farm the family who lived there had given them some bread, they still had to be very careful with how much they ate and how much they kept. She had barely eaten in two days, and she was starving. They were also so very tired that they had trouble walking, all of them.

But the real problem was the cold.

Arya had always scoffed when people called her a summer child. She was a Wolf. She was a Stark. She was of Winterfell. She had lived her entire life in one of the coldest areas of the realm. She could stand in the biting wind for hours on end and barely acknowledge the chill. Cold had never been a problem for her.

But now, with the rain, the dampness of the soil, the exhaustion and the fact that they were getting closer to the North, she was starting to understand what winter meant. And it wasn't even really winter yet! She felt chilled to the bones, like even her insides were soaked. For days now, they had been sleeping outside, with absolutely nothing to protect them, and she didn't know how much longer she was going to survive this.

They had lost a few companions to the cold already. One of the three men in the cage had died three nights earlier, and when Yoren and her father had opened the gate with the intention of getting his body out, the other two had managed to escape. To Arya's surprise, they hadn't hurt anyone, they had just ran away, their movements so quiet and quick that she doubted they would ever be heard of again. Yoren was still grumbling about that.

Before that, two boys barely older than her had just never woken up after they went to sleep.

Strangely enough, the only one who didn't seem too affected besides Yoren and her father was Gendry. Him being from King's Landing, and used to being relatively well fed, and to spending entire days next to a burning hearth, she'd thought he would be bothered by the cold. But he wasn't. At all.

It was annoying. To hear her own teeth shatter, to be unable to sleep because she was shaking so bad, and to see him go through the day like nothing was wrong. She wished he was at least a little bit miserable. Maybe not as much as her, but enough to understand what the rest of them were going through.

Groaning and turning to her side, knowing she wouldn't get any sleep at all, she tried to pull her furs closer to her body for warmth, but they were so drenched that it was no use. Just to see if it made a difference, she sat up and got rid of her heavy coat. That didn't make her feel any colder, since the wet cloth was as chilly as the night air.

She looked around the camp, wondering if anyone was actually sleeping or if they were all just staying very still in the hope that the cold would forget about them. She was about to get up and join Hot Pie on his watch, needing something to do, when she heard a branch crack behind her. She raised her head to see Gendry looming over her in the darkness, his own coat in hand. He lay down next to her, close enough that their legs were touching, and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened.

"What are you doing?"

"Lie down."

"Why?"

"Just lie down."

She wanted to argue, but he had that stubborn look on his face, the one that said he wasn't going to explain or change his mind. She did as she was told, lying down next to him, facing him. He pulled her closer and she let him, her hands coming to rest against his chest, her head under his chin. When he placed his almost dry coat over them, she couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, feeling instantly better. She even stopped shaking after a while, and she realized she could feel her toes again. She was on the verge of falling asleep for the first time in days when she remembered where they were, and who they were with. She tried to pull away from him, thinking she could make it through the night now with the little bit of extra heat he had offered her, but his arms around her kept her against him, and she whispered, hoping he would see the sense in what she said:

"They'll talk. They don't know I'm a girl. And even if they did..."

"Let them talk. I'm not letting you freeze to death."

His voice warmed her almost as much as his body had. As she brought her hand up under her head to use as a pillow, her fingers brushed against his cheek, finding the skin warmer than it had any right to be after days in this weather.

"How come you're so hot?" she asked, her voice indignant.

"Years in the forge, I guess."

It certainly made sense, since it felt like all the fires he'd been standing next to for the last ten years were now coming off him in comforting waves.

"Gendry?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

She could hear his smile when he answered.

"Anything for m'lady."

She didn't even have enough energy left in her to hit him.

* * *

**TBC...**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: I figure Arya is around 11 at the beginning of the first season, which would make her a little under 12 by the end of it, so that's what I'm going with, even if she's younger in the books. **

**This chapter is a bit of a filler, I mostly just wanted Ned and Gendry to have a little chat. I should be able to update on Saturday, Sunday at the latest. **

**Thanks again to everyone who's reading this :)**

* * *

**EDDARD**

As a lord, he should have put an end to it and threatened the boy with bodily harm, whatever the circumstances. As a father, he silently sent him all his gratitude. After that first time, the Bull had made a habit out of joining Arya for the night, and Ned had seen his daughter come back to life in just a couple of days. She was still hungry, just like the rest of them, but she was no longer as pale as a ghost, her eyes were almost as bright as they had been when they'd left King's Landing, she didn't trip as much as she had for a while, and overall, she didn't look like she was about to collapse. It was amazing what a few nights of actual sleep could accomplish. Seeing Robert's bastard coming back from the forest and toward the camp, Ned got up.

"Gendry, can I talk to you for a moment?"

He instantly dropped his gaze, clutched the firewood he was carrying closer to his chest and muttered "M'lord."

Funny how even though he now knew Arya was a Stark, he never seemed ill-at-ease in her presence, as opposed to how he behaved as soon as Ned was around, suddenly remembering his courtesies. Part of it was probably due to the fact that he had been friends with Arya before he'd found out that she was a highborn. And part of it was probably due to the fact that he was just a tad more intimidating than his daughter.

Smiling gently, Ned dragged him away from the group to talk privately.

"I have a few things to tell you, some you will not like."

The boy frowned but still didn't look at him. Ned sighed.

"We are getting closer to Winterfell."

"I know, m'lord", Gendry reluctantly admitted, thinking he understood where this conversation was going.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for my daughter."

That got his attention, enough so that he raised his head to meet his eyes in surprise. Then he nodded, looked at the ground again and waited in silence. Ned winced. There was a lot he had to say, and more he couldn't say yet.

"In two days, she will go back to her family..."

"And I will still be going to the Wall. I know, m'lord, I never thought..."

Ned hid a smile at that. The mere fact that the boy was awkwardly trying to bring up what he had 'never thought' was proof enough that he _had_ thought about it. Or at least that he believed that Ned had thought about it. He had a private laugh as he wondered what Arya would have thought of this conversation, but he quickly refocused. He could have stopped him, he could have told him that this wasn't what he'd been going to talk about, but he wanted to see how Gendry was going to justify what he had 'never thought'. Eventually, the Bull surprised him by deeply breathing in, gathering his courage, and looking him straight in the eye, his voice firm.

"She's my friend. I never forgot my place."

"I don't think you know your place", Ned said softly.

As was to be expected, the boy frowned, confused and maybe a little bit insulted. Ned finally allowed his smile to show.

"Listen, believe it or not, what I am trying to say is simple. Just because you will not be seeing her during the next few months does not mean you should forget her."

His stunned look was so similar to Robert's that Ned felt a painful tug in the pit of his stomach as he remembered his old friend.

"M'lord, I... I don't understand."

"Brothers of the Night's Watch are allowed to have friends, Gendry", he reminded him gently. "Arya has lost too many people already, I do not want her to lose a friend just because of distance."

"Oh."

He seemed understandably relieved and Ned decided to leave it at that for the moment and to change the subject.

"I have something for her. I cannot be seen with her without raising suspicion, and I was hoping you could give it to her."

"Of course, m'lord."

Ned placed a small object in Gendry's hand, smiling at his admiring gasp.

"I had this made in King's Landing before... well, before everything. Today is her nameday."

"I didn't know."

He shrugged.

"She probably doesn't even know what day it is. Tell her not to wear it before she's in Winterfell."

"Yes, m'lord."

* * *

**ARYA**

She watched suspiciously as Gendry and her father talked for what seemed like a very long time. Maybe she was just jealous because her friend got to talk to her father and she couldn't have a real conversation with him because no one could know they knew each other. It was strange to see how Gendry acted around Ned, all shy and respectful and unsmiling. She often forgot how intimidating her father could be to people who didn't know how kind he really was.

Seeing Yoren throw her a disapproving look, she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him and she went back to her chores, washing the dishes in the river while half listening to Hot Pie and Lommy. One word had her suddenly stop feigning interest in their conversation and actually take part in it.

"What did you say about Winterfell?"

"I said we should get there the day after tomorrow. That's what Yoren told me."

She could hardly believe it. Maybe losing count of the days had been a good thing after all, she hadn't realized they were so close. Just two days, and she would be home. She would see her brothers, sleep in a real bed, ride a horse, take a bath... and then she would have to convince her family to let her go to the Wall. Maybe if she just said she wanted to see her father and brother, they would let her go and, once there, she could simply never leave. That sounded like a good plan.

She was so lost in her fantasies that she missed Lommy and Hot Pie leaving and Gendry crouching down next to her. She jumped when he called her boy name and shoved him hard as a punishment for startling her. So hard that he fell backwards and laughed.

"Is this the thanks I get?"

"Thanks for what?"

"For the gift I'm supposed to give you. From your father", he added after making sure no one was close enough to hear.

She felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

"A gift?"

He nodded.

"It seems today is your nameday."

She hadn't known that, but if her father said so, then it must be true.

"Give it to me!" she commanded impatiently.

"I don't know. You're not very nice to me, and..."

Before he could finish his sentence, she was wrestling him to the ground and trying to get him to open his stubbornly closed fingers. He was laughing so hard she could feel his body shaking under hers. She smiled, hoping he was distracted enough, but then he managed to stand up and she found herself falling backwards while he ran away. She went after him, the other boys laughing around them at seeing this tall man run away from such a small boy. Even though she was quick, his long legs gave him an unfair advantage, but just as she was about to give up, Gendry fell face first in the mud. She smiled at Yoren who had tripped him up, while her friend screamed "traitor!" at their leader. She kicked his leg until he yielded. After that, she just sat down beside him while he sat up, still grinning, and they waited until everyone had lost interest in them before the Bull finally handed her her gift.

It was so small she would not even have felt it in her hand had it not been for the coolness of the metal against her palm. Intrigued, she looked at the small object, and instantly felt a sob escape her throat. She brought her hand to her mouth to prevent more from coming, but she wasn't very successful and, embarrassed and needing time to herself, she got up and ran, ignoring Gendry's puzzled look and calls. She ran far enough to be out of sight, but not far enough for it to be dangerous and she climbed into a tree, liking the feeling of safety the height gave her. When she was sure she could look at her gift again without breaking down, she slowly opened her palm and admired it. The silver pendant was round and in the center of it, Nymeria was howling beneath a full moon. The reminder of her direwolf was as sweet as it was bitter, and it brought back with it every memory of every bad thing that had happened after King Robert had named her father Hand of the King. Micah's death, Lady killed, Sansa hostage, Jory's death, Syrio dying to protect her... This past few months had been hard, she finally acknowledged to herself as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Annoyed, she wiped it away and tried to remember that she would be home in just two days and that nothing else mattered.

When she heard Gendry calling her not too far from where she was perched, she managed a small smile and jumped to the ground, ready for whatever came next.

Or so she thought.

* * *

**TBC**

**Warning: spoilers for the second season/book in the next chapter. Stop reading now if you don't want to know what happened in 2x07-2x08. Since I've only read the first two books, there won't be any spoilers past A Clash of Kings in this story.**


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm pretty sure there's something wrong with my timeline, I don't think the events in Winterfell took place so early in the second season, but... Well, did I mention this is AU? :)**

* * *

**EDDARD**

He knew something was wrong as soon as they were close enough to see the castle. Yoren seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he glanced his way and ordered everyone to stay where they were while he went and asked for shelter for the night. That's when he saw Arya become suspicious. House Stark had always been a friend of the Night's Watch, she knew under normal circumstances, there would be no need for a single man to go talk to the Lord of Winterfell, she didn't see why they couldn't all just go and wait until they were given a dry place to sleep in. He discreetly shook his head in her direction when it looked like she was going to go to Yoren and ask for explanations. If things were as wrong as he suspected, it wouldn't be safe for her to reveal herself now.

The Brother of the Night's Watch came back a while later, his face even grimmer than usual as he walked up to Ned and explained:

"Theon Greyjoy has seized Winterfell and proclaimed himself as lord. Your heir and wife are still south with their host, surrounded by Lannisters, there is nothing they can do."

Ned felt the cold grip of dread on his heart and wished he could just disappear into the ground instead of having to ask his next question.

"My boys?"

Yoren looked away for a moment. Then he looked at him again and shortly replied:

"Killed."

He barely had time to process the information. They heard the sound of a struggle next to them and turned to see what was happening. Unaware that tears were rolling down his cheeks, Ned could only watch as Gendry held Arya back with all the strength he could muster, his right arm around her middle, his other hand over her mouth, preventing her from screaming or running to him. His daughter's eyes were wild, her kicks vicious, her teeth probably trying to bite into the hand that was silencing her, her fingers trying to reach the Bull's face to scratch his eyes out, but the boy held on, smart enough to understand what she couldn't in her grief: if the others saw her reaction, they would realize she was a Stark of Winterfell. Thankfully, all the other boys were far enough behind them that Gendry's tall frame kept them from seeing what was happening in front of him. Ned saw the boy lower his head and whisper a few words in his daughter's ear. Whatever he said, it was enough for her to stop struggling and try to control herself. He marveled at how well the smith knew Arya. He wasn't sure he would have managed to calm her down after this, but maybe that was because he was still trying to get his head around what he had just learned.

Winterfell seized.

Bran, Rickon, and probably most of his people, dead.

His ward a traitor, although that shouldn't have come as such a surprise.

Robb on the verge of war, since if he had stayed put until then, it was only because the Lannisters weren't really in his way, but now that the Lion was preventing the Wolf from going North to defend his territory, the Wolf would surely try to fight his way back home.

Arya and Sansa in more danger than they had ever been in.

Bran and Rickon dead.

Ned sat down on a fallen tree, his legs unable to support his weight as the full meaning of what he had heard finally hit him.

His two young boys, gone forever. He had not even seen Bran after he had woken up, he had not told him how proud he was of him for fighting for his life.

And worst of all, he had not been here to protect them, because he had been too busy playing the game of thrones.

Catelyn had been right from the beginning. He should never have gone to King's Landing. But there was nothing he could to about it now, but give a silent promise to his dead children. Right there and then, he swore he was going to win this game, no matter what it took, and the rest of his family would be safe.

Yoren interrupted his thoughts.

"My Lord, Theon Greyjoy tells me the Night's Watch is always welcome in Winterfell. He knows you are with me, but..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Ned knew. He might be welcome in Winterfell as a future Brother of the Night's Watch, but if Theon saw and recognized Arya, he would sell her to the Lannisters without a moment's hesitation. They could not stay there without putting her in danger. And yet, he thought as he watched the weary faces of those he had been travelling with for the past two months, half those boys would be dead before they reached the Wall if they didn't get a roof and a warm meal for at least one night. He was trying to think of a solution, but there were only two words that made sense in his mind. Bran. Rickon.

"M'lord..."

Ned and Yoren turned to see that Gendry had joined them. A few feet behind him, Arya was sitting with her back against a tree, looking ahead with a blank look on her face as the others went about their chores, not paying attention to their leader anymore.

"Speak, boy", Yoren said when it looked like the Bull was waiting for permission.

"I can take her North. We'll make it look like we tried to run away and got lost, and you can catch up with us in a few days, once the others are rested and fed. You'll punish us for deserting and bring us to the Wall, and no one will ever know 'Arry' just couldn't be seen in Winterfell."

Ned felt a flicker of hope as his mind made sense of what the boy was saying. North wasn't as safe for Arya as Winterfell would have been, and he would rather have her join her brother and mother south, but the way south was full of Lannister men, and neither her nor Gendry would reach Robb's camp without being taken prisoners. This plan was the only one they had right now.

Sharing a look with Yoren, who simply shrugged, Ned then focused on the Bull, trying to silently convey both his agreement and his gratitude. The boy must have understood, because he gave a curt nod and simply added:

"I'm sorry about your sons, m'lord."

Ned wordlessly nodded his acknowledgment of the sentiment and he heard Yoren tell Gendry not to forget to steal a sword and some food before his flight. And then his mind went blissfully blank.

* * *

**ARYA**

She hated herself. She hated the weakness she could feel consuming her whole being. She hated having broken down in front of anyone. She hated having to rely on Gendry for protection and for common sense. She hated crying herself to sleep every night. Granted, it had only been three days since they had left the group, and she knew, logically, that mourning for her brothers and for her home was normal and would take longer than that, but still, the pain was exhausting and was making her feel weak. A feeling she really, really despised.

Anytime she felt like kicking herself for being such a little girl, she found some comfort in the words Gendry had whispered in her ear a few days earlier, when she had been struggling to break free of his strong hold.

"_Listen to me. Stop it. If you don't, you're dead too. That won't help you or your father. Right now, you need to calm down. You can kick and yell and cry all you want when we're alone. Just _not today", he had finished with such conviction, reminding her of Syrio saying those same words with a small smile on his lips, so much that she had instantly obeyed. _What do we say to the God of Death?_

And in his little speech, he _had_ told her she could cry later. So she did. She just hoped the tears and sobs would stop at some point. When he had dragged her away from the group, he had explained his plan, and she knew Yoren and the others would catch up with them soon. She needed to get a grip on her emotions before then, she knew it, as sure as she knew that Gendry didn't know what to do with her anymore. He held her when she cried, he held her when she slept, he held her when she awoke from a nightmare, he held her when she was cold, and still nothing he did seemed to ease the pain.

What she didn't tell him, out of pride or shame, she wasn't sure, was that he was helping more than he would ever know. She had enough sense left to know she simply wouldn't have gotten through this without him. She would have gotten killed trying to run Needle through Theon's heart. Or she would have been captured and sent to the Lannisters. Or she would have simply given up and let herself die, if he hadn't been here to remind her every single day that she would soon be reunited with her half brother and her father.

On the fourth night, as they lay close together in what was now their usual position, her small body snuggled against his larger one, his arms around her, the furs covering them, she felt the tears fall silently. That was progress, she thought drily through her sorrow. She usually screamed and sobbed. She jumped a little when calloused fingers gently touched her cheek, erasing the tears one by one, but she didn't move away. He had seen her at her lowest and he was still here, it wasn't like he was going to be scared away now, and she could allow him to show a little compassion without feeling like this would be the end of the fiery personality she was so proud of.

"Tell me about them."

She raised her head in surprise, meeting his clear blue stare with her tormented grey one, trying to determine what had prompted the request. But she soon gave up trying to figure him out and she resumed her comfortable position as she answered, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

"Bran is... _was_ the smartest person I knew. He never forgot anything, and he was kind and understanding and way too serious. He would have made a great knight, or a great lord, or even a great king. He would have made a great whatever it was he decided to become", she admitted with, for the first time in days, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "Rickon was much more fun to tease, and more careless, which was sometimes nice, but dangerous too. The way he raised Shaggydog..." Her voice trailed off as she thought of the direwolves and wondered what would happen to them now that their masters were gone. Theon had probably killed them too. That thought sent her into a new fit of sobs, and once again, she cried herself to sleep, the last thing she felt before losing consciousness a soft kiss pressed into her hair.

When she opened her eyes and realized the sun was coming up on the horizon, she could hardly believe it. She had slept through the night for the first time since they had left Winterfell, and she felt rested and much stronger than the day before. Her eyes still felt puffy and were probably red, but the lump in her throat she had been afraid would stay there forever seemed to have disappeared and she was hungry.

She sat up, waking Gendry in the process, and looked around her like she was seeing the world for the first time. Obviously worried, her friend frowned and forced her to look at him.

"How are you?"

"Better", she admitted, and then she added "I'm going to kill Theon."

He raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the matter-of-fact tone in which she had said it, and gave her a tentative smile.

"Fine. Maybe not right now though."

She actually chuckled at that.

"No, not right now. But one day, he is going to pay for what he did."

He looked like he was about to say something, but then he closed his mouth and turned away from her, and she frowned before realizing what had just happened. He had been about to tell her he would help, just like she would have if the roles were reversed, because this was what friends did... and then he had remembered that he was to join the Night's Watch, and the Night's Watch took no part.

She sighed. During those last few weeks on the road, she had been trying not to think about what would happen once they reached Winterfell. They would be apart and she would most likely lose her friend. She didn't feel as bad about her father and brother joining the Night's Watch as she did about Gendry following in their footsteps. Eddard Stark and Jon Snow were both remarkable swordsmen, and though she knew that didn't mean no harm would ever come to them, they were a little bit less at risk than most Sworn Brothers. But Gendry... Gendry was brave and strong enough to become a ranger, not a builder or a steward, but he was not skilled enough with a sword to be safe from the dangers that lay beyond the Wall.

Well, she would have to remedy that, she decided. She was going to the Wall herself now, and even if she was honest with herself and admitted there was no way anyone was going to let her stay there for the rest of her life, it would be at least a few months before it was safe to think about sending her anywhere else. That meant she had a few months to turn the Bull into a better swordsman and increase his chances of surviving as a ranger. Jon would help her, she was sure of it. And her father seemed to have taken a liking to her friend as well. Between the three of them, they could make sure he wouldn't get killed the first chance he got.

Feeling a little better, she jumped to her feet and began gathering their things. They still had a long walk ahead of them.

* * *

**TBC...**


	6. Chapter 5

**Really short chapter, sorry. I have nothing to do this week end but work on this story, so I should be able to update soon.**

* * *

**EDDARD**

He was beginning to think they would never catch up with Gendry and Arya, and was a little worried that his daughter may have decided to stay off the main road, or even to go south in spite of the dangers. But no. Arya would put herself in risky situations without so much as a thought for her own safety, but she knew her friend needed to get to the Wall, and loyalty was one of her best qualities. She would see him to his destination _before_ she did anything reckless. Besides, Gendry could be as stubborn as she was, and he also knew that _she_ needed to get to the Wall. Between the two of them, Ned was certain they would manage to get there.

He thought back to a few days ago, when he had been sleeping on the floor in the stables of Winterfell, and a strange tall woman who later introduced herself as Osha had woken him and silently motioned for him to follow her. Skillfully avoiding the guards, she had led him to the crypt, where he had found the giant Hodor watching over his two sleeping sons. He had fallen to his knees in gratitude and relief, Shaggydog and Summer coming over to lick the joyful tears away, Bran and Rickon waking up because of the noise. He had hugged them both through his tears. He'd had to leave before the others noticed he was gone, but they were alive, they were relatively safe and comfortable, there was still hope for Winterfell and for his family. He had to get word to Robb and Catelyn, and maybe something could be done about Theon Greyjoy's treason.

Profusely thanking the wildling woman, trusting her to keep taking care of them for as long as they needed her, he had returned to his makeshift bed with hope in his heart again.

He couldn't wait to tell Arya.

And he soon could, he realized as he saw the two silhouettes, one much more imposing that the other. Seeing Yoren's almost invisible smile, he allowed himself to believe that maybe everything was going to be all right.

When they were within earshot, the Brother of the Night's Watch called out:

"You two, desertion is punishable by death! You're lucky you haven't taken the Black yet, or I would have your heads! As it is, spanking will do."

Ned had to look as Yoren beat both his daughter and her friend with a long wooden stick. He knew they had to keep up appearances, but that didn't make it any easier, especially since he could see the unshed tears in Arya's eyes or the way Gendry clenched his jaws to keep from crying out in pain.

They couldn't sit for days after that.

It took a few days, but he finally managed to speak to his daughter while she was alone and quickly tell her that Bran and Rickon were alive and that the Starks would take back Winterfell. He could see she barely suppressed her cry of joy at the news, and he smiled at her before joining Yoren.

They were getting close to the Wall now, the cold was more biting than ever, but their short stay at Winterfell had made them more resistant, and no one complained for the last few days of their journey.

At last, three months after they had left King's Landing, they saw it.

Ned smiled as he heard and saw the reactions around him. The largest man-made structure in Westeros was a sight to behold. The sheer size of it was enough to silence even Hot Pie.

Yoren let them stare in silence for a while before he shouted:

"Welcome to the Wall. Hope you won't all be as worthless here as you were on the road."

* * *

**ARYA**

The Wall was huge. She had known it would be, of course, but even in her wildest dreams, she couldn't have imagined just how big the thing was. Even with her head thrown back, she could barely see the top from where she was standing, in the yard, surrounded by the boys she had traveled with as they were presented to the Lord Commander. The one they apparently nicknamed the Old Bear went to her father first, and though he didn't bow, she could read the respect in his eyes, and she instantly decided she was going to like this man.

"Lord Stark. We were sorry to hear of your misadventures."

"Lord Commander. My sword is yours."

"And what else have you brought me, Yoren?"

"Nothing useful, I'm afraid. Although this one is a smith", he said, pushing Gendry forward.

The Bull lowered his head and muttered a respectful "m'lord."

"A smith. Are you any good?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"No false modesty. Good. You'll have plenty of work here. We go through weapons faster than Tyrion Lannister goes through whores."

That drew laughs from some of the men around them. Arya was dying to ask about Jon, but she knew she couldn't. Thankfully, her father either sensed her impatience, or was curious himself, for he asked:

"What of my son, Lord Commander?"

"Your bastard's keeping watch on the Wall. He will be back tonight."

Tonight. She would see Jon tonight. The last time she had seen him had been a year ago, and she couldn't believe how much had changed. It would probably be safer to let their father speak to him first, so that he knew not to react when he saw her. Even if she suspected she was now safe amongst the Brothers of the Night's Watch, she would not risk her true identity being revealed until her father told her it was all right. Besides, the men would be more willing to let her practice with swords and bows if they didn't know she was a girl.

"Lord Commander, can I talk to you in your chambers?"

Her father's request didn't surprise her, but it seemed to surprise everyone else except for Yoren. After considering the question, the Old Bear nodded and left with Ned, while Yoren showed them around. She didn't know how long she was going to stay here, but she did know that with her brother, her father and her friends here with her, she wouldn't mind if it was for a very long time. She smiled at the thought. For the first time in months, the future didn't seem so dark.

* * *

**TBC...**


	7. Chapter 6

**This story is getting way out of hand. I just wanted to explore Arya and Gendry's relationship, mostly through Ned's eyes, and I find myself rewriting the entire game of thrones. I thought I would be almost done by now, but the way things are going, we're probably not even halfway through the story. I foresee more sleepless nights in my future, yay! Lol**

**I know Jon and most of the Night's Watch should be north of the Wall, but once again, I did say this would be AU :) Mormont's probably going to be OOC in this, I need him as an ally, not as a neutral party**

**Again, thanks for your reviews, favorites and alerts, I can't tell you how excited I get every time I see them :D**

* * *

**EDDARD**

"Here we are, Lord Eddard. What did you want to talk about?"

"I have two things to ask of you", Ned began cautiously, knowing that he was treading on thin ice and dangerous waters.

Despite the fact that he had forced Mormont's son to exile, he knew the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch respected him, just as he respected the older man. But still, the Old Bear was a Sworn Brother, and what he was about to ask went against everything he was supposed to stand for. He wasn't too worried about Arya, she was not a threat to anyone in the realm, and making her leave would mean giving her to the Lannisters, he knew Mormont wouldn't do that. But the Bull was another matter. He decided to start with the easy part.

"My daughter came here with me."

"The small _boy_", the Old Bear said like it wasn't a surprise. "She has your eyes. Like Snow."

"I'm glad not everyone is as clever as you."

"The Queen wants her."

It wasn't a question, so he kept his mouth shut.

"And you want me to keep her safe."

"Yes."

Mormont didn't hesitate.

"Fine. But she's to take part in the Watch's training. No one can know she's a girl. And as soon as it is safe for her, she's gone."

"Agreed."

"What was the other thing?"

Ned bit down on his lower lip in a nervous habit he had thought long lost. Intrigued, the Lord Commander motioned for him to sit down, and he gladly did.

"It's about the blacksmith."

"What about him?"

"Did you take a good look at him?"

The old man shrugged, just like he'd thought he would. The boy's most striking resemblance to his father was his eyes, and he had not met Mormont's gaze while talking to him. After one last hesitation, Ned blurted out:

"He's Robert's bastard."

The Old Bear lifted his eyebrows, and Ned couldn't help but feel a little proud that he had managed to surprise him. It was said after a lifetime spent on the Wall and beyond, not much could shock him.

"If what they say about Joffrey is true..."

"It is."

"That makes the bastard Robert's rightful heir. Even Stannis can't compete against a son. If anyone decides to legitimize him..."

"Then the true King and Protector of the Realm is in your yard right now, waiting for his fate to be decided... by you."

The Lord Commander frowned and took a sip from the cup in front of him, offering some wine to Ned, who declined.

"What you're asking..."

"Just don't make him a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch. That is all I ask of you."

A sharp bark of laughter was the man's immediate answer.

"All you ask of me? Do you take me for a fool? What you are really asking me to do is to protect the bastard until you see fit to reveal his existence to the world. If that boy takes the Black, like he ought to, then he is no one to the realm. Stannis, Renly and Joffrey will keep fighting until two of them are dead and the last man standing gets the crown. A matter of months, maybe two years, no more. But if someone, your son Robb for instance, were to legitimize the bastard, as soon as the fighting between those three is done, the war will start again, with whoever sits on the Iron Throne by then trying to keep it, and your son's army trying to give it to this smith."

He spat out that last word like it was an insult. Ned waited to see if the rant was over. When the silence seemed to last, he calmly said:

"I don't want him as a king. I want him as an ally."

The Old Bear eyed him suspiciously.

"You don't want him as a king?" He checked.

"No. Don't misunderstand me. Gendry would undoubtedly be a much better king than Joffrey _Lannister_. And he has a better claim to the throne than Stannis or Renly. But he is not made for the crown."

"Then what..."

"I want to use him to bring peace to the realm. I want to let Robert's brothers know about him." Stannis knew, but it wouldn't hurt to remind him of the boy's existence. "I want to tell them he will gladly leave the throne to them, on the condition that they stop fighting each other and focus on the real enemy."

"The Lannisters."

Ned nodded. Mormont was beginning to understand. The Lion had crippled his son, was keeping his daughter as a prisoner, would have killed him if he hadn't believed he could outsmart him and hoped he would die on the Wall, and most of all, he would march on Robb's host and kill every single one of his men as soon as he thought Renly and Stannis were not a threat anymore, which would happen soon if they didn't stop fighting each other. Not to mention Joffrey really would be a terrible king, uncaring and cruel to his people.

Ned's warning was simple. If Robert's brothers refused to join forces, then the Starks and their numerous friends would rally behind Gendry Baratheon, true heir to the Iron Throne, and neither Renly nor Stannis would ever wear the crown. This alliance he was suggesting was a bargain for them, if you asked him.

"There are three armies against the Lannisters. Robb's, Renly's and Stannis'. The matter could be settled in less than a year, with as little bloodshed as possible. And you would get your pick of men for the Watch amongst the remaining Lannisters."

And then the Baratheons could help the Starks take Winterfell back. For a moment, the Lord Commander seemed to consider his words, and Ned dared to hope. But then the Old Bear softly reminded him:

"The Night's Watch takes no part."

"I know."

"Even if I agree to this, what of the boy? Once he learns of his true lineage and is legitimized as Robert's son, what guaranties do you have that he will not fight for the crown?"

"He won't be able to. House Stark is the only one who could _maybe_ benefit from supporting his claim, and the peace treaty Robb would sign with Stannis and Renly would forbid it. If my son tries to take the crown and hand it over to Gendry once the Lannisters are defeated, Stannis and Renly's joined army will crush him. Together, they are so much stronger. This is why they need to stop fighting each other. This is why I intend to use Robert's son as incentive. Let Stannis be King, let him name Renly his Hand, and the realm will be at peace."

"And this Gendry? What do you see in his future?"

"Storm's End, of course."

His ideas made sense and he knew it. But that didn't mean the Lord Commander would agree to help him. Despite it being a reasonable plan, one that would get rid of a cruel king and bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms, the Old Bear could still see this as breaking his vows. Ned hoped Mormont would realize he wasn't asking him to take part in the fighting. He was just asking him to protect one boy, just like he had asked him to protect Arya. A technicality, yes. But this could be enough of a justification for the Old Bear.

"You know, we do need a good smith, and I'm not sure a boy needs to be a Sworn Brother of the Night's Watch to mend swords."

Ned smiled.

* * *

**ARYA**

They had been here for three weeks, and she still hadn't been able to talk to Jon. She had seen him a few times, but there were always other people around, so they had only acknowledged each other with polite nods, like two boys who didn't know each other but would be expected to spend a great deal of time together in the next few years.

She was getting frustrated, she admitted to herself as she blew hot air in her gloved hands to try and warm them up. Gendry groaned his disapproval and tried to catch her wrist to drag her closer to the fire. She stubbornly escaped his grip. The fire was too far away from the edge of the Wall, and she loved standing so close to it that it felt like the slightest gust of wind would push her over. The sense of danger and power was addictive. He knew she loved it, and he seldom tried to get her away from the edge anymore.

"You're freezing", he accused.

She smiled.

"I noticed."

"Come here."

"No."

"Arry..."

After calling her Arya when they had been alone on the road, he had reverted back to using her boy name, even when it was only the two of them, because he was afraid they would be overheard. Which could happen. Privacy was a foreign concept here.

It seemed they were together every single moment of every day. The Lord Commander paired them up more often than not. He said they made a good team, Gendry strong and reliable and level-headed, 'Arry' quick and hot-tempered and adventurous. Arya suspected that at least part of the Old Bear's commands also had something to do with her father, but she wasn't sure how. What she did know was that while she usually went crazy if she didn't have a few moments to herself every once in a while, she didn't mind Gendry's constant company. He would push her and comfort her and tease her and make fun of her and fight her when he thought she was wrong about something, but he would also shut up and just leave her be when she really didn't feel like talking. After three months on the road and almost a month on the Wall with her, he was getting good at telling the difference.

"I'm fine."

He shook his head and stood up to get closer to her. A real effort on his part, she knew. He wasn't as fond of the height as she was. She let him take her hands in his. Two months ago, the gesture would have felt strange enough for her to pull away, but after everything they had been through together, and everything he had done for her, this felt natural. She was cold, he was warm. That was the end of it.

"Can you see anything?"

She shook her head. The weather had been really bad for three days now, and with the wind and the snow, she couldn't even see the closest trees.

He released her hands when they heard someone coming. He had told her he didn't care on the road because it was a matter of life or death, but here on the Wall, where it was just a matter of comfort, he didn't want anyone to get the wrong idea. Especially not one of the four men who knew she was a girl.

She had called him stupid. Her father and Yoren had seen them sleep cuddled next to each other and had trusted him enough to leave her alone with him for days, they wouldn't care if they saw them holding hands. Jon would just be happy someone was taking care of his little sister. As for the Old Bear... It wasn't any of his business.

Gendry had claimed she didn't understand and put an end to the discussion by leaving. She had never argued with him about this again.

She watched, hopeful, as she saw Jon walk over to them, and realized no one but Ghost was following him. From afar, she called out:

"You alone?"

When he nodded, she let out a delighted laugh and left Gendry's side to run towards her brother. She threw herself in his arms and he hugged her, laughing too, while she simply said:

"Finally!"

Raising her eyes to meet his, she saw him throw a concerned look in the Bull's direction.

"Don't worry, Gendry knows everything", she told him. "I'm so glad to see you!" she exclaimed, swatting his hand away as he tried to tousle her hair, like he used to do back in Winterfell.

"I missed you, Arya. I was so scared when the Lannisters told everyone they had you and Sansa."

She frowned at that.

"They still have Sansa."

"Not for long, if I know Father."

She exchanged a glance with Gendry, and because they had talked about this before, he expressed her worries for her:

"Your father can't do anything about it now that he's here."

"He can send word to Robb. Don't worry about Sansa. She's too valuable a hostage."

"If he marries her..."

"It could happen", Jon admitted. "But I hear Joffrey's busy trying to get rid of his uncles. I don't think a wedding is high on his list of priorities. Besides, the Imp was appointed Hand of the King."

Arya frowned again. She didn't see how this had anything to do with their sister.

"So?"

Jon shrugged as he got closer to the fire, and Gendry stepped aside to make room for them.

"I trust Tyrion Lannister will make sure no harm comes to her."

She had heard it said that Jon had befriended the dwarf a year ago when they had come to the Wall together. Still, she wasn't convinced. She was about to say so when her brother turned to the Bull.

"So, Gendry, are you a murderer, a bastard, a rapist or a thief? Or all of those?"

"Jon!"she exclaimed, forgetting that she had asked the same question when they'd met back in King's Landing.

But Gendry just laughed, seeming to appreciate her brother's blunt honesty, and replied:

"Bastard. Got sent here by my master."

"That's right, I heard you're a blacksmith. About time we got one here."

"You wouldn't think so. The Lord Commander has forbidden me to even look at the smithy."

Jon smiled.

"That's because you have to go through training and take your vows first. He probably doesn't want you to get too attached to the forge, if he decides you will be more use to him as a ranger, after all."

Gendry shrugged. Still, despite his supposed lack of concern with the matter, Arya knew two things with certainty. One, he missed working as a smith. He had told her as much, had tried to describe how he felt when he succeeded in turning a relatively worthless piece of steel into something beautiful, or useful, or both. She hadn't really understood until he'd explained that to him, having a hammer in hand was like when she practiced her Water Dance. He thought of nothing else. And nothing was quite as satisfying as feeling his muscles ache because he had put them to good use.

The second thing she knew for sure was that Gendry wasn't merely good, he was an amazing blacksmith. This she knew not because she had witnessed it – she had only seen one piece of his, the admittedly stunning bull helm he had been forced to leave behind – but because anything he talked about with so much passion, he could only do flawlessly. So, when it didn't look like he was going to answer, she did it for him:

"He'll be more use in the forge, believe me."

"Hey!"

"What?"

Jon laughed.

"You basically just said he's not a good fighter."

"No, I basically just said he's a better smith."

"How would you know?" Gendry asked, sounding genuinely curious.

It was her turn to shrug.

"You don't _love_ fighting."

She saw the two men exchange a silent look she didn't understand, and she decided to ignore it. This was the first time in over a year that she could talk with Jon, she didn't want the whole conversation to be about Gendry, especially since she had been spending those last four months with him as a constant companion. The Bull seemed to sense it, because he suddenly asked:

"Tell us about the Wall, Jon."

Her brother smiled and walked closer to the edge. She threw an amused look at Gendry as she did the same, and her friend rolled his eyes and made a show of getting away from the edge and closer to the fire.

As Jon started talking, telling them about the other Sworn Brothers of the Night's Watch and everything they had seen and done together, Gendry occasionally asking a question or offering a comment on a story, Arya couldn't help but think that this, this felt like home.

* * *

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 7

**I'm so glad people seemed to like the last chapter, it's been my favorite to write so far :) **

* * *

**EDDARD**

"Your left!"

His daughter's shouted warning made him smile. He had seen the blow coming too, but it seemed Gendry had not. Jon managed to disarm the blacksmith once again, and the wooden sword fell to the ground. He saw Arya shake her head and heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "Stupid, slow, bull-headed moron" under her breath. He couldn't help but chuckle at that. She was being unfair. Gendry was a bit slow, true, but he had strength, endurance and focus. And to his credit, when most men would have yielded by now, the Bull punched Jon in the nose, which gave him just enough time to pick up his weapon and start fighting again. No, he wasn't as good as his opponent, but he wasn't nearly as bad as Arya was making him out to be either. And he was still better than at least half the untrained men here.

It was just that the sword-shaped wooden weapon didn't seem to fit in his hand. It was too small. Or maybe too balanced. Not powerful enough. Too elegant. There was something wrong with the picture, and Ned couldn't quite put his finger on it. The boy did manage to hit his son a few times, but the blows were awkward. It was like he was trying to crush rather than pierce. Except since swords weren't made for crushing, it just didn't work out the way he intended it to.

One of the men who were watching with them cheered when Gendry lost his balance, fell backwards, and rolled over just in time to avoid Jon's practice sword, and another one shouted:

"Hey, blacksmith, I really hope you're better with a hammer!"

Ned laughed along with the others at the good-natured jape, especially since everyone here knew that Gendry could beat most of them based on strength alone. Then the word hit him.

Unable to believe he hadn't thought of that before, he left the training yard to enter the armory. It was only a short while before he found what he was looking for. Smiling, he went back to the yard, where Gendry was wiping blood from his bottom lip and Jon was apologizing for the hard blow. Ned walked up to the Bull and took his fake sword, placing the other weapon in his hand instead.

"Try this."

Gendry raised it in front of him, and Ned's grin turned into a sad smile. The weight of the weapon would have surprised most men, and anyone who had never held one like this before would have hesitated before finding the right grip, but the Bull seemed to find it only natural in his hand, even if he did turn his attention to Ned to ask:

"What am I supposed to do with this, m'lord?"

"Hit him."

He gave him a small nod of encouragement and got out of his way. Gendry looked at Jon, the question clear in his eyes. Jon just shrugged and got into position, giving his agreement. They circled each other, both a bit unsettled by this new development. When Ned got back to his observation spot, next to Arya, his daughter asked him a question.

"Why a warhammer?... my Lord", she added quickly when she remembered someone could hear and she was supposed to treat him like a lowborn boy would treat a lord.

He shrugged, unable to shake the melancholy away as memories of battles long past came back to him, and offered her a half-truth.

"He's a smith, isn't he?"

She seemed to accept that and went back to watching the fight. Gendry was just going for the first hit with the warhammer. The swiftness of the blow came as a shock to Jon. He could only jump back, and the Bull attacked again, obviously much more at ease than he had been with a sword. His weapon caught Jon hard in the shoulder, and he let go of his fake blade. The smith waited for him to pick it up before going for another blow. Jon blocked it with difficulty, the aftershock so violent that he had troubles raising his wooden sword again, and Gendry took advantage of it. But just before the hammer hit his target, the Bull abruptly stopped his movement, for which Ned was grateful. The boy had realized he was going to catch Jon right in the temple, and since the warhammer was no training weapon, but a real heavy and lethal one, he could have inflicted a lot of damages, maybe even killed him.

Gendry let the warhammer fall to the ground, looking bewildered, and looked across the yard to find Ned. Ned just gave him a small nod and turned to leave. He was supposed to meet with the Lord Commander before dinner.

When he found the Old Bear, the first words the man said to him were:

"A warhammer. We could have thought of that earlier."

"We could have", he agreed.

"But we didn't."

"No."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"You really think he's that different from him?"

Ned shrugged, but it seemed Mormont was waiting for a real answer, so he said:

"In some things, he's exactly like him. Once Robert set his mind on something, nothing could divert him from his goal. Gendry's like that too. But Robert was proud, some would say arrogant, and hot-blooded. Gendry's power is quieter. And this makes a difference."

"It does, indeed."

Ned stayed silent for a while, but once again, it looked like the Lord Commander was not going to start talking. He waited a little longer, but still nothing came. He could be patient, most of the time, but the answer he was waiting for was important. So he asked what he wanted to know.

"Any word from Robb?"

The Old Bear handed him a scroll and waited for him to read it. Then he summed it up:

"Your son got your message. He's sending you someone he trusts. The messenger should be here within a fortnight."

Ned let out a relieved sigh. Before he could send his proposal to Stannis and Renly, he had to keep his own people informed. The problem was, such sensitive information could not be trusted with a bird, and the Night's Watch didn't have any men to spare to deliver messages, even if they had been willing to. So he'd had no choice but to send a raven to Robb, only asking him to send a man he could trust with his life to the Wall.

Ned was glad he had not taken his vows yet, or he wouldn't have been able to interfere in the matters of the realm the way he was right now.

* * *

**ARYA**

Almost six months. She could hardly believe it. Two months ago, most of those who had come to the Wall with her had said their vows. Only a few had not yet taken the Black, those who weren't ready and would wait for a few more months to get their orders. Among them were herself and Gendry. She was beginning to wonder about her friend. She knew why the Lord Commander hadn't made her say the words. She was a girl, and she was only here until the Starks could safely return to Winterfell. But Gendry was another matter. Given what little information her father had given her, she had thought he needed to get to the Wall for protection, and she had assumed he would have to join the Night's Watch as soon as possible to be permanently safe from the Queen: once he was a Sworn Brother, whatever it was she wanted with him, she wouldn't be able to harm him, he would belong to the Wall.

It wasn't that he wasn't ready, like some of the others. He had been practicing with the warhammer, getting even stronger and much more skilled in the art of fighting, and he could easily have joined the rangers. And, if that wasn't an option, she knew, just like the Lord Commander did, that he would be a valuable asset to the Night's Watch as a smith. Three months ago, the Old Bear had finally asked him to build a sword, just to see what he was capable of, and he had been so impressed with his work that he had taken him off the watches to make him work in the smithy almost full time. Arya barely saw him anymore.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. She saw him during meals, and they often practiced together, and she came to see him in the forge whenever she wasn't busy with her own chores, and they spent most of their evenings together, but compared to when she had been with him every waking moment, she had decided that this was the very definition of barely seeing him.

She was in the smithy now, watching him pound furiously at a piece of metal that was supposed to become a horseshoe, obviously frustrated with himself. She liked watching him work. She had been right in her assumption, he was better than good, and she loved the way he seemed oblivious to everything but the hammer and the piece of metal, just like he had told her. He was right where he belonged and he knew it. She had learned quickly that it was no use trying to talk to him in those moments, and she didn't mind. The smithy was hot but comfortable, the sounds were oddly relaxing, and watching the unbreakable iron bend to his will was fascinating.

He stopped trying to kill the poor horseshoe long enough to take a sip of water and run a cloth down his face, neck and arms, wiping some of the sweat away. He was the only man on the Wall who could work in just a leather jerkin and still be too hot, and most of the others envied that. She stood up and got closer to him to drink some water as well. He handed her the wineskin and blurted out "You're taller."

Startled, she watched his face closely to see if he was mocking her, but he just seemed surprised. And she realized he was right. She was now eye-level with his chin. When they had first got here, she had barely reached his shoulder.

"Shit!" was all she said.

It seemed to be explicit enough, for he nodded in understanding. This was not good. She was almost a woman grown, not that much younger than Sansa had been when her parents had promised her to Joffrey. If she started filling out the way her sister had when she'd turned three-and-ten, pretending to be a boy was going to become very difficult very soon. And this wasn't the only problem with growing older. She was coming to an age when ladies where supposed to have a betrothed. Her father had officially taken the Black along with the others, which meant Robb was going to want to make some arrangements for her sooner rather than later, and she couldn't even try to convince him otherwise because he wasn't here.

Maybe she still had a few more months before she needed to start worrying about this. She didn't know much about the war, news was sparse on the Wall and the Lord Commander didn't share information with just anybody, but she did know that everyone seemed to have joined forces against the Lannisters. If she was lucky, her brother would wait until the war was over before he decided who she was supposed to marry: a valuable ally, a lord he wanted to assure of his loyalty, someone with wealth or an army to help them take back Winterfell... In any case, someone she didn't want to marry. She didn't want to marry anyone, for that matter. The mere thought made her shiver in disgust. She sincerely hoped Robb would talk to her about it first. And if he didn't, she would just run away, she decided.

"Are you all right?"

"I don't want to be a woman grown!"

"Not much you can do about it."

"That's helpful, thank you."

"What do you want me to say?"

He sounded angry. She knew he was frustrated because the stupid horseshoe wasn't turning out the way it was supposed to, but he didn't have to take it out on her, especially when she was on the verge of a full-blown panic.

"I don't know", she admitted, the tone of her voice stuck somewhere between an exclamation and a sigh.

That seemed to calm him down and he leaned against the wall as she perched herself on one of the anvils she always used as a seat when she came to see him. His voice was soothing when he spoke again.

"You can start wearing bigger clothes. And you should cut your hair short again, or you'll look like a girl soon enough."

He was right again. Her stupid hair kept growing, she'd had to cut it thrice already in the six months she'd been on the Wall.

"You can also ask the Lord Commander to pair you up with Jon more often. I don't think anyone suspects you two knew each other before you got here, you're safe on that front, and the less time you spend with people who are supposed to think you're a boy, the better. It'll even give you more time with your brother."

She nodded. Now _this_ was helpful.

"What about marriage?" she asked, because that was her main concern

He seemed lost for a moment, but then he understood what she was talking about.

"I don't think you need to worry about that right now. Your brother is going to wait until the war is over to see which ones of your potential husbands are still alive. You _will_ want to kill the poor man yourself, won't you?"

The laugh that escaped from deep in her throat took her completely by surprise. She had not expected to be anything but angry and troubled for the next few days or more. His grin in reply put a definitive end to her blooming terror and she felt herself grow more relaxed as he went back to work. Watching him helped put things in perspective.

Because no matter what happened to her, she would always be glad that she wasn't a horseshoe in the making.

* * *

**TBC...**

**I feel like something is missing here, like maybe I should have described those 6 months instead of just skipping it, but I didn't want to drag this on. The main reason why I did this is I really want to get to the romance part of Arya and Gendry's relationship, but IMO, Arya is still too young for anything to happen. I've started working on the next chapter and we're probably going to jump ahead again. I hope it wasn't too disconcerting in this chapter. Once the story is over, I might be persuaded to write a few missing scenes, maybe from Jon's POV, but for now I'm just going to follow my original plan. Thank you all for reading! :D**


	9. Chapter 8

**You may have noticed that I've reposted the previous chapters. Don't worry, nothing has changed in the plot, I just wanted to correct a few mistakes. Sorry if you thought it was an update when I reposted chapter 7.  
**

**Because the next chapter is turning out longer than I intended, I decided I would post what was supposed to be the beginning of chapter 9 at the end of chapter 8 instead, so you get an extra Ned's POV in this one. **

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favorited and put this story on alert, and most of all thanks to dismembered constellations for her work as a beta reader  
**

* * *

**EDDARD**

He dismounted with a relieved sigh. He had always thought going beyond the Wall would be more exciting, it turned out it was just exhausting. He was back from a month-long patrol with three other rangers, and he just wanted to bathe and then sleep for three or four days. There had been absolutely nothing interesting, just the cold and the long ride. And putting up with the constant chatter of two of the other Brothers. He gave a small, grateful smile to the lad who took the reins of his horse and he walked to the room he shared with five other men. He had seen them in the training yard, he knew the room would be empty until after the evening meal. Lying down on his bed, he was surprised to hear a sound coming from the corner of the room and he jumped back up to his feet, his hand going straight to the hilt of his sword. The intruder jumped at the sound as well, and he instantly relaxed before making sure they were alone. Only once the door was locked did he speak:

"Arya, what are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go, I thought I would be alone here."

That was when he noticed her red eyes and wet cheeks. His strong, fiery daughter, crying alone in the dark? Now that was more worrying than anything he could have seen beyond the Wall.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head. He frowned.

"Arya, I can't help you if you..."

"I... I flowered."

The whisper was so soft that he almost asked her to repeat, but he didn't really need to. There were very few things she would react that way to, and this was certainly one of them. How was he supposed to deal with this? He would have no idea what to do under normal circumstances, and these were hardly normal circumstances. For most highborn girls, flowering meant they were now ready for the life they had always wanted. And even putting aside the fact that Arya had never wanted to get married, there was still the small matter of her posing as a boy.

He had hoped that by now, she would be safely back in Winterfell, but the war was taking longer than he had anticipated. The Lannisters were putting up quite a fight, and King's Landing had not fallen yet despite the fact that Stannis and Renly had agreed to his terms months ago and that the Lion was therefore fighting against a Wolf and two Stags.

He focused his attention back to his daughter. Her thirteenth nameday had come and gone while he was north of the Wall, and he supposed he should have expected this. He knew he could give her at least some small comfort, but first he had to ask:

"Does anyone know?"

She shook her head.

"No one noticed and I flipped the mattress and cleansed the sheets."

"Good girl."

He smiled and sat down on his bed, waiting for her to join him. When she did, he took her hands in his and began:

"Listen, I know at least part of what you are worried about, and you need to know that Robb will not force you to marry a complete stranger."

"How do you know?"

"Because there was talk of it a few weeks after we got here. Do you remember the Freys?"

"They hold the Twins."

"That's right. Robb needed to cross, and Lord Frey consented only if he married one of his daughters, and you married his younger son when you both came of age. Robb's messenger told me about it, I ordered Robb to refuse."

She frowned, confused.

"Why? How? Did Robb cross anyway?"

"Yes, he did. I told him to tell Lord Frey you were already betrothed to someone else, and Lord Frey had no choice but to change his demands."

"You _lied_?"

She sounded so shocked by this prospect that he had to smile.

"After that, I came to an agreement with your brother. No one is going to make you marry a stranger, Arya Stark."

She threw her arms around his neck and she both laughed and cried against his shoulder as he held her close, thinking that things could have gone much worse.

* * *

**ARYA**

She had never loved her father more than she did right this instant. She had thought nothing could make her feel better today, but learning that she wouldn't have to marry some disgusting old man and start breeding was definitely on top of her list of things that could have made her feel better about anything. After a while, she disentangled herself from her father's embrace and crunched up her nose.

"You smell horrible."

He laughed, getting up from the bed.

"I had every intention of bathing, but then I got attacked by a crying girl."

"Sorry," she said, knowing she didn't sound sorry at all.

She left the room with a big smile on her face and went straight to the forge, where she found Gendry studying a familiar blade that probably needed repairing. He raised his head when he heard her, practically bouncing on her feet.

"You're in a good mood," he stated suspiciously before narrowing his eyes at her and adding "and you've been crying."

"True. And true."

"A strange combination."

"Also true."

He tried to look annoyed, but she could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He did however manage to keep his voice bored when he asked:

"Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"

She checked behind her to make sure no one was too close, and then she turned back to him.

"I flowered."

"Eww... I really didn't need to know that!"

She laughed as he made a disgusted face and she punched his arm. Then, he got serious again.

"I'm guessing that this brought the tears. So what brought the good mood?"

"My father told me I don't have to marry anyone. He made my brother promise."

His grin was almost as big as hers. It was good to see him happy for her. She liked sharing things like that with him, he always seemed to understand what she was trying to say, even when she wasn't exactly sure herself. Sure, sometimes he acted weird, he would get all moody and talk even less than usual, and sometimes she just wanted to kick him for being a stupid bull, but she was coming to realize that he was the one she wanted to go to when something went wrong. Or when something went right, now that she thought about it.

She smiled a little as she thought back to the first time she had seen him. Judging by his size alone, she had decided he must be a bully, but when the two boys she would come to know as Lommy and Hot Pie had picked on her, he had come to her rescue, and she had changed her mind. However, it wasn't until he'd told her he knew she was a girl and he'd promised to keep her secret (a promise she knew now he would never break) that she had decided maybe he could be trusted.

And here they were, more than a year later. Her, a woman freed of one of her greatest fears; him, a smith for the Night's Watch even if he still wasn't a Sworn Brother. Life had tried to kick them down a few times, and she was pretty sure neither of them would have gotten to where they were today if they had been unable to rely on each other. But they _had_ been able to rely on each other, and that had made a difference.

"What are you thinking about?"

"The Lord Commander was right about us. We make a good team."

"That's mostly true," he agreed. "But not in the forge. You're distracting me, and your brother wants his blade back by tonight."

"What's wrong with Longclaw?" she asked, feeling her skin grow hotter as she got closer to the flames to take a look at the sword.

It took a while before he answered her question.

"He says the balance is wrong. Here, tell me what you think."

She took the sword in her hand, pointed it in front of her and frowned.

"He's right."

Gendry nodded as she handed him the weapon back.

"He fell from his horse a few weeks ago while patrolling beyond the Wall, he thinks that's when it happened."

"Can you fix it?"

"'Course. Just not if you keep bothering me with all your girly talk."

Her mouth dropped open at the accusation, and he quickly stepped back to avoid the punch she threw his way. She let him think he had won and only when he started working did she hit him hard in the shoulder, taking advantage of his distraction. He didn't even wince, and she realized he must have been expecting it.

"You know me too well."

"That I do, m'lady."

"And I knew you were going to say that."

She smiled as she punched him again, the blow slightly less violent. He just laughed and shook his head, working on Longclaw. And suddenly she asked:

"Why haven't you taken the Black?"

He froze, momentarily taken aback. She had to admit from his perspective, the question had sort of come out of nowhere. She had been wondering for a long time. She was almost certain the decision hadn't come from him, but she was curious to see if he knew why the choice had been made for him. As far as she knew, it was unheard of for someone to stay on the Wall for as long as he had and not become a Sworn Brother. And with her, that made two exceptions to that rule. The others were probably whispering behind their backs. She wondered what they were saying. Maybe one of them knew the truth. Maybe she should try to listen in on those conversations.

"I'm not sure," he said at last, his voice hesitant. "I asked the Lord Commander once, but he just told me not to worry about it."

"Do you _want_ to take the Black?"

He gave her a strange look that she didn't quite get and simply said, "No."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I just find this whole thing odd. The Queen after you, my father wanting me to bring you to Winterfell if you couldn't reach the Wall, the Old Bear not making you take the Black... What's so special about you?"

He raised his eyebrows, silently signaling her that she had just insulted him, again. She rolled her eyes and explained:

"I already think it's weird that Mormont is going through the trouble of helping me, but at least I know why he's doing it. For my father. But what about you?"

"You know I don't have your answers, right?"

"Yes," she all but growled.

"Just checking. What brought this on today? We've been here for a year."

She shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess... with what happened today, I've been wondering a lot about the future, and since that doesn't do any good, I thought wondering about things past would help."

"Does it?"

"What do you think?"

"I think that you worry too much about things out of your control, and you're going to be late for your watch, _Arry_."

She punched him again.

* * *

_One year later**  
**_

**EDDARD**

Wildlings. In numbers greater than they had ever anticipated. And at the worst possible time, too. Like the other two men in the room, he kept silent for a while, trying to grasp what it meant. On Mormont's signal, Jon poured three cups of wine, and he sat down next to his father as they all drank. Eventually, the Old Bear spoke what they all knew to be the truth.

"We need to leave on the morrow."

Jon and Ned nodded. The three rangers who had come back from their patrol today had reported that the Wildlings were getting ready to attack, and if the Night's Watch didn't react right away, if they didn't leave to fight them beyond the Wall instead of waiting for them to take them by surprise, the threat would most probably extend south of the Wall.

The other report they had received should have been good news. A raven had carried a message from King's Landing. After a two year long siege, the city had fallen at last, and Stannis sat on the Iron Throne. He had named Renly his Hand and proclaimed Robb as Lord of Winterfell (not King, Ned had noted), giving him five thousand men to take back the castle. Robb was marching north right now with his own army and part of Stannis and Renly's army, his mother and his sister by his side.

Which would all have been perfect, were it not for more disturbing news: though Tywin was dead, and Joffrey, Cersei and Tyrion were Stannis' prisoners, Jaime Lannister had managed to escape with half a hundred men. It was said they were headed for the Wall and had at least a week's start on Robb. It seemed taking back a kingdom and dealing with the aftermaths of a siege that had lasted a little under two years was very time consuming.

And that was the real problem.

If the Kingslayer was really coming to the Wall, and Ned had no reason to doubt it, and if most of the Night's Watch was to leave to fight off the Wildlings, then Arya and Gendry were not safe here anymore. It looked like Jaime simply wanted to take the Black with his men rather than risk being executed by Stannis, but if he found a Stark here, he would be fool enough to think he could trade her for his sister's freedom. Ned would not let another daughter be taken hostage by a Lannister. Not to mention if the Kingslayer found out who Gendry was and what role the boy had unwittingly played in Stannis and Renly's unexpected alliance, he would not hesitate to kill him. The truce between the two Baratheon brothers was still too fragile to risk it going up in flames because the only person the Starks could use as incentive had been killed by a Lion.

"Arya needs to leave," Jon finally said.

"So does the smith," the Lord Commander added gravely.

Before Ned could agree, Jon frowned, obviously confused.

"Gendry?"

"Gendry Baratheon," Mormont completed, looking him in the eyes, trying to see how long it would take for him to understand.

"Barath-... You cannot be serious."

He turned to his father. Ned gave a curt nod and saw him try to grasp the meaning of this new piece of information.

"Does he know?"

"No... and he can't find out yet," Ned decided.

He did not have time to explain, so he just ordered:

"Bring them here."

Jon hesitated, but when the Lord Commander confirmed the order with a wave of his hand, he left the room, leaving the two men alone.

"Why not tell Gendry the truth now?"

"Because the boy is not a good liar."

"He kept your daughter's secret for over two years," Mormont pointed out.

Two years. A year ago, his daughter had flowered. Two years ago, he'd found out Theon Greyjoy had seized Winterfell. Three years ago, he'd left his home to go to King's Landing. It was amazing how fast time passed.

"Of course he did. It was her life in jeopardy, not his. Peace is so close... I don't want to risk him slipping up in front of a Lannister and starting a new war. I don't think Jaime is the only Lion headed this way. Some of his father's guards are probably coming to the Wall as well. The road south is not safe. And if Gendry dies, there's nothing preventing Stannis from trying to get rid of his brother. Right now, the threat of the Starks and their bannermen rallying behind Robert's true heir is the only thing keeping this truce from collapsing."

A knock interrupted them. Jon opened the door and led Arya and Gendry inside, both looking puzzled as to why they were being summoned to the Lord Commander's chambers. Arya was the first one to react.

"Is something wrong?"

"Jon," Mormont said, "go tell the others to get ready. We leave at first light."

Jon bowed slightly and left after one last glance at Gendry.

"Leave? Where are we going?" Arya asked, her friend keeping silent but obviously just as curious as she was.

Ned gestured between himself and the Lord Commander.

"_We_ are going beyond the Wall, and you two are going to Winterfell."

"What?"

The joined exclamation drew a smile from Mormont.

"Sit down, both of you."

They did, and Ned started explaining.

"The Night's Watch is going north to fight the Wildlings. King's Landing has fallen, and Lannisters are coming this way. If they find you here, you're both as good as dead. You need to ride south as soon as possible, and stay away from the main road."

"Why can't we come with you?" Arya complained.

"Because you are not Brothers of the Night's Watch. And because we can't risk you getting killed by Wildlings. Or by anything."

"Is that why you never let Gendry take the Black?" she accused. "Because you knew one day I would need protection on my way south?"

"That was part of it," Mormont half-lied. "Lord Robb and Lady Catelyn will explain the rest once you get to Winterfell."

Gendry spoke up then, surprising them all.

"Why Winterfell, m'lords? Isn't Theon Greyjoy still there?"

Ned nodded.

"Yes, but Robb is riding back North with an army. By the time you reach the castle, he will have control of it. If he doesn't, just stay hidden until he does. Do you think you will be all right on the road?"

Arya smiled.

"If we could do it two years ago, we can do it now."

Ned didn't remind her that winter was now here, that they would be on their own the whole way instead of just for a few days, and that they risked running into Lannister men. At four-and-ten and nine-and-ten, they were also older and stronger than the last time they'd had to face this kind of dangers, and they would leave with as many weapons and as much food as they needed, it had to count for something.

His daughter still had questions, which only consisted of names.

"Sansa? Bran? Rickon? Joffrey? Cersei?"

Mormont stopped her before she could go any further, and Gendry and Ned both smirked when they saw the dark look she was giving the older man. She hated being interrupted.

"Your sister is free and safe. We heard nothing about your brothers. As for the others... It can wait. You need to get ready. Take weapons, food, furs, and two horses."

Ned saw the Bull place his hand on Arya's arm and give a gentle tug, knowing she would never leave with so many questions still unanswered if he didn't convince her to. She briefly raised her gaze to meet his, and she gave a resigned sigh before nodding and turning away. Ned was momentarily rendered speechless by the look they had shared. He would not have been more shocked if he had been told that he had traveled almost twenty years back and he was in fact looking at his sister and Robert. This look... The stormy grey eyes meeting unwavering clear blue ones, the complete and utter trust, the whole conversation held in one single stare, the calming effect he had on her... This was a look he had seen but once in the past. This was a look that told him they would both kill or die for each other, whether they knew it yet or not. This was a look that told him of what would happen if anything stood in their way, because he had witnessed it twenty years ago. This was a look that made him very glad he had taken steps to make sure nothing would.

* * *

**TBC...**


	10. Chapter 9

**ARYA**

"I haven't ridden in months. I've missed it."

"I haven't."

She laughed. He didn't trust horses. He thought They were too unpredictable. The very reason she liked them so much.

"You're lucky we have a long way to go, or I would race you."

"You would race alone, m'lady."

She narrowed her eyes at him, for the first time cursing the fact that they were on horseback. He was too far for her to hit him. Instead of telling him to stop calling her that, she asked, "What do you think this is all about?"

He just shrugged.

"Aren't you a bit curious?"

"Yes, I am. But Mormont promised us your brother and mother would explain everything. You've been wondering for the past two years. Surely you can wait a few more days."

"I guess," she reluctantly admitted.

"What's bothering you?"

"Why do you think my father told you not to take your warhammer with you?"

He looked surprised at that, like he hadn't expected her to bring this up of all things. And yet, out of all the clues she had gathered over the last couple of years, this was the one that kept nagging at her for some reason. She didn't really listen to his answer, and he seemed to notice, because he stopped talking after a few short sentences, leaving her to her thoughts.

The reason her father had given them as they were getting ready to leave this morning was sensible. A warhammer was too heavy, better to pack more food instead, and as such a weapon wouldn't be much use on the road anyway. But the tone of his voice, the way his eyes had kept going back and forth between the warhammer and her friend, the nostalgia she could see written all over his face... All of that had somehow brought back the distant memory of a history lesson with Maester Luwin. She could remember the exact words. "_And at the battle of the Trident, Robert Baratheon crushed Rhaegar Targaryen's chest with his warhammer_."

And she had suddenly wondered... _Could it be?_

Could it be that if her father had been so insistent about Gendry leaving his weapon of choice behind, it was because he was afraid the connection would be too easy to make? Could it be that the suspicion that had begun to take form in her mind was the reason why Cersei had wanted Gendry dead? Could it be that her father had protected the Bull, not just out of the goodness of his heart or because he was her friend, but because he felt he owed it to the boy's father?

She couldn't really find any similarities between Robert and Gendry, except maybe for their eyes. But the king she remembered had been a fat drunkard who didn't even know the meaning of the word honor. Could it be that before he had become this man she hadn't liked one bit, her father's friend had been as muscular and handsome and honorable as Gendry was?

She kept telling herself that her theory was silly, but it was the only thing she could think of that made sense, and the more she thought about it, the more everything seemed to fall into place if she looked at it this way.

Maybe his master had sent Gendry away from King's Landing because he knew who he was and he was trying to protect him.

Maybe her father had told her she was to bring Gendry before her mother or Maester Luwin because they would be able to see Robert in him.

Maybe the Lord Commander had let him stay on the Wall without making him take the Black because he had been hoping that as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Gendry could bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms.

She would keep those thoughts to herself, she decided. If she was wrong, she would only make a fool of herself by speaking them out loud. If she was right... well, she was sure her father had his reasons for keeping the truth from them, she would respect that. Besides, the Bull was right. She only had a few more days to wait, three weeks at the most.

When they stopped for the night, she realized she had managed to stop thinking so much and she had really enjoyed the ride. Covered in white, the frozen ground sparkling with the last rays of the sun, the landscape was gorgeous, and they couldn't hear a sound except for the soft thud of their horses' hooves on the snow. It was peaceful. And she didn't have to worry about posing as a boy. It was like a burden she hadn't remembered she was carrying had been lifted off her shoulders. She would still have to be careful if they met anyone on the way, but for now the road was deserted, and it was only her and Gendry.

"You look relaxed," he noted as he sat down next to her after tying their horses to a tree.

She smiled and snuggled a little closer for warmth. Taking the hint, he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"I am."

"I thought you'd be nervous."

"Nervous?"

"You haven't seen your family in three years."

"I'm sure I will get nervous when we get closer to Winterfell and I have to be a Stark for the first time in two years."

For now, she was just Arya, and it felt good. It felt _amazing_. She had never realized how oppressing the Wall was. She had enjoyed her time there, and she had loved most of the men as if they were her own brothers, but she had lived in a near constant fear of being exposed, and she had never had one single moment to herself. Sure, Gendry was here with her right now, but it didn't feel like an intrusion. In fact, she was pretty sure she would be disoriented if he wasn't here with her.

"Did I ever thank you?" she asked abruptly.

"For what?"

She heard the surprise in his voice, and she could feel he was trying to look at her face, but she didn't feel like raising her head from its resting spot against his shoulder, so she didn't move.

"For dozens of things."

"Like what?" He chuckled like he thought she wasn't serious.

That was enough to make her shift to look at him. There was an amused twinkle in his eyes that told her he really didn't believe she had anything to thank him for. She frowned. Didn't he realize just how much he had done for her during these two years? Even if they never talked about it, she had always thought he was aware of how much she owed him.

"Where do you want me to start?"

The smile fell from his lips and the twinkle left his eyes when he heard how serious she was. He shook his head, uncertain. She started her list.

"Thank you for helping me when Hot Pie and Lommy were trying to take Needle from me. For agreeing to fight with me on the King's Road. For keeping my secret. For what happened after Winterfell. For keeping me warm..."

"Stop it."

She ignored him.

"For slipping some of your food into my plate when you knew I was really starving some days, even though you thought I didn't notice. For cheering me up when I needed it. For letting me intrude on your moments in the forge. For..."

"_Stop it!_"

This time, she did, stunned into obedience by the dark tone of his voice. His arm fell from her shoulders and he seemed to be struggling with whether he wanted to get up or stay where he was. Perplexed, she could only manage a small "Why?"

"Just... Don't."

He did get up then and he tried to get away, but she was on her feet almost as soon as he was and he only took one step forward before she was in front of him, demanding answers.

"What's wrong with you?"

He clenched his jaw, the first sign that he was about to close down and just stop talking. She frowned, completely bewildered by his behavior. He had a tendency to ignore her when she was annoying him, she didn't mind that, but this was different. She could feel the angry energy coming off him, and she just didn't understand what had made him this furious. She also didn't remember ever seeing him this furious. Vaguely feeling that this was important even if she didn't know why, she thought carefully about her next move for once. Instead of pushing for a confrontation like she usually would have, she took a small step back, giving him some space, and she unconsciously lowered her voice.

"Gendry, I... I don't understand."

He looked back at her, apparently surprised by either her words or her surrender. Something softened in his expression and he seemed to make a conscious effort to relax his tense muscles.

"I know. Sorry. I just... Forget it."

He turned away, clearly thinking this was the end of the conversation, but she wasn't even close to being done with this. How was she supposed to avoid hurting him again if she didn't know what had made him so defensive in the first place?

"Gendry, what's wrong? Why is it so hard for you to let me thank you?"

It seemed it was even harder for him to hear it than it was for her to say it. And that was saying something.

"Let it go."

There was that growl in his voice again, and he wasn't looking at her. This wouldn't do. She went to stand in front of him.

"No. Listen you stupid Bull, I'm sorry if I offended you. But I'm not letting this go. Do you know how many times I would have given up if it wasn't for you? How many times you've made me laugh when I thought I didn't even remember how to? How many times you've saved my life?"

"_Stop it!_" he said again, his voice louder now.

"Why?"

She was almost screaming as well. Gone was her peaceful day.

"Because!"

"Gendry!"

"Because you don't have to thank me for taking care of a friend! And you certainly don't..."

She had been about to shout some more, to try and knock some sense into him, but when his voice trailed off and she realized he had been about to say something important, her own voice came out as a whisper.

"I certainly don't what?"

"Seven Hells, Arya..."

He sounded defeated now, like some kind of line had been crossed and he didn't think he could go back. She would never admit it to anyone but herself, but she was terrified in that instant. For the briefest of moments, all she could think about was that she was about to lose her best friend, and she couldn't handle that. And the worst thing was she didn't even know why. But she pulled herself together. No matter what it was, she wasn't going to lose him. She just wouldn't let that happen. And yet, she could only watch as he ran his hand through his hair and paced in the snow before stopping in front of her. He looked like he was about to say something, closed his mouth, tried again. And then he muttered something she didn't get and he pressed his lips to hers.

She was so stunned that she froze, trying to make sense of what was happening. They had been fighting like they had never fought before, and she'd said... and then he'd said... and then he'd had that strange look in his eyes, the one she had noticed once or twice in the past few months but had never really understood, and then... oh.

_Oh._

She pulled away but kept her hands tangled in the fabric of his coat for fear he would take it the wrong way. She didn't want him to go away, she just needed to think. Apparently, he didn't get her meaning, because he tried to take a step back, but she held on to him, not caring if it made her look desperate. She had to anyway, she was pretty sure her legs would refuse to carry her.

She was keeping her eyes down, focused on his throat to avoid looking at him for just a little while, but when she felt his hand on her cheek, she had no other choice but to raise her head and meet his stare. She gasped at what she saw there, now that she finally understood what it meant. And before she could think better of it, the words tumbled from her mouth, her eyes widening with her newfound knowledge.

"You _want_ me."

"I do, m'lady."

She had no idea what to make of that, so she just went with her instinctive response whenever he called her that and she punched his shoulder. She saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, but his eyes stayed serious as he waited for her next move. Reluctantly, she stepped back.

"Just give me a moment, all right?" she asked before he could misinterpret her retreat.

He nodded wordlessly. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. When she felt her heartbeat slow down at last, she looked at him again. He didn't like questions, he was probably going to hate what came next, but this was how she dealt with things and he knew it.

"When did this happen?"

He shrugged.

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"You don't hear me asking you when you realized we were friends, do you? Why should this be any different?"

She furrowed her brow, deep in thoughts.

"I don't know. It just kind of feels like it should be."

"Sorry," he offered.

"Why didn't you say something?"

He raised his eyebrows like the answer should be obvious, but it wasn't. Not to her.

So he said, "You mean despite the fact that you're a highborn and I'm a bastard, that I was supposed to take the Black, and that for the past two years, we've been living with your lord father and your brother?"

Yes. There was that. She suddenly remembered something.

"Is this why you looked so happy when I told you I didn't have to marry anyone?"

She hated how small her voice was, how shy and weak it made her sound. Gendry sighed.

"I knew it didn't change anything. I'll always be a lowborn blacksmith. I just... I was just..." He gave a frustrated growl as words seemed to elude him, and he tried again. "Look, just forget about it. It's not like anything is ever going to come out of it anyway. You should never have found out. I'm bringing you to Winterfell, and then we both know we'll have to go our separate ways."

"Do we?"

There was nothing he could say to that, she knew it as well as he did. No one knew what was going to happen once they reached the home she had left over three years ago, but she probably had a better idea than he did, if what she suspected about him and about her father's reasons for keeping him safe was the truth.

"We should get some sleep," he decided instead of answering her question.

She watched him as he lay on his back in the snow, one arm under his head. He tensed when she snuggled close to him, naturally finding her old spot against his body despite the fact that they hadn't slept like this in what felt like forever, but then he relaxed, turned to his side to wrap his arms around her, and covered them both with the furs. She let him think she had dropped the matter, silently studying his face while he began to fall asleep.

"It wasn't much of a first kiss," she stated quietly after a while.

His eyes shot open, so wide she would have laughed if it weren't for the nervous flutters in her stomach. But he quickly recovered and he sighed, refusing to look at her.

"Arya..."

"I'm just saying, you know, you ruined my first kiss, the least you could do is make up for it."

"_Ruined?_"

"Well, it was just flesh against flesh, and so brief I barely had time to realize it was happening. It's not like I expected to be kissed anytime soon or as if I ever gave it much thought, but still, if I had, I probably would've hoped for something a little more... I don't know, just more, I guess."

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she was glad because at least he was looking at her, and he had that suspicious look in his eyes that told her he knew _exactly_ what she was doing, and that was comforting because he was still her bull-headed friend who knew her too well.

"Are you trying to _provoke_ me into kissing you?"

"It was either that or just kiss you without warning, and since that didn't really work well when you tried..."

"Arya..." he warned again, the reproach clear in his voice.

"I still haven't completely ruled out this second option, just so you know."

"Fine!" he all but snarled. Then he added, his voice dry, "I'm going to kiss you now."

She chuckled.

"Thank you for warning me."

And suddenly she wasn't chuckling anymore. Because his mouth was on hers, and it was nothing like that unexpected first touch. It was soft, and warm, and tender, and his hand was resting against her neck and cheek, and he was gently nibbling at her lower lip, and she opened her mouth because she was curious, and she felt the wetness of his tongue sliding against hers, and the warmth turned into a full-blown _fire_, and she heard a low moan and realized it had come from her, and she broke the kiss off, taken aback by her own reaction.

Still unsettled, she blinked up at him, saw his expression was somehow stuck between smug and unsure, and she had to smile, because the contradiction was just so _Gendry_ that she felt something flutter in her chest.

"Can we sleep now?"

It came out as affectionate, even though she could tell he had been going for impatient. She wanted to say no, she wanted more, but her yawn betrayed her, and after punching him lightly for laughing at her, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

**TBC...**

**I'm so nervous about this chapter, especially since I know most of you have been waiting for this. I really hope you all liked it. If you did, please review! And if you didn't, please review and let me know how I could have made it better.**

**Some of you have asked for a Gendry POV. I'm sorry, I don't think it's going to happen, I find he's really hard to write. Hopefully his thoughts and feelings were clear enough in this chapter :)**


	11. Chapter 10

**I needed a new POV character for the few remaining chapters, since I don't want everything to be seen from Arya's perspective and Ned is kind of busy fighting off Wildlings right now. I didn't want to use Gendry because let's face it, he's clueless :) I couldn't justify Sansa being part of some of the scenes I intend to write, and I just couldn't write Catelyn if my life depended on it. So I went with Robb. We're getting closer to the end now, only 3 or 4 more chapters to go.**

* * *

**ROBB**

As far as battles went, this one had been rather easy, he conceded as he sat down in the big uncomfortable seat and took a moment to compose himself before facing what came next.

He let his eyes wander around the great room, remembering how powerful his father had always looked when he'd sat in this very chair listening to his people's requests. It was his turn now, and he wasn't as anxious as he once would have been. He had successfully led men into battle, he had held his ground discussing strategies with the intimidating man who was now king, he had known when to listen to his advisors and when to impose his own decisions, he had become a man. He knew he could do this, even if he was going to miss his father's counsel.

It felt good to be home.

But retaking Winterfell had only been the beginning, and he was starting to believe that the end would never come. There were many things to be done before he could send word to his father and brother that the Starks once more ruled in the North.

Theon's fate would be easy to decide. Although if asked, he would say a quick death was too merciful, he also wanted the matter settled as soon as possible, and he would wield the sword himself with great satisfaction.

Most of the traitor's men would meet the same end. Those who had been cruel to the northern people, those who had helped Theon hunt down Bran and Rickon, those who had raided the farms around the castle.

A few would be kept alive and stay as prisoners, either because the people of Winterfell would vouch for them, assuring him that they had been kind to them despite their leader's commands, or because they would be more valuable alive than dead. Some of them were sons to House Greyjoy's bannermen, keeping them here would prevent something like this from ever happening again. He wouldn't make the mistake of trusting them like he had trusted his father's ward.

Once he had dealt with his enemies, he would need to deal with his allies.

He didn't know how much his father knew of the situation. King Stannis had told him that he would send a message to the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and tell him about seizing King's Landing and about Jaime Lannister being on his way to take the Black. Robb hoped his father had gotten the message and taken steps to protect Arya and Gendry. But even if he had, the sooner Arya was safely returned to Winterfell with the boy who kept the truce strong even if he didn't know anything about it, the better. When his host had reached the crossroad with one turn leading to Winterfell and another leading to the Wall, he had sent fifty of his guards north to get his sister and Robert's son. He would worry about what came next for them once they were here.

Now that the realm was at peace, he also needed to appease Lord Frey. The old man wasn't too happy about him breaking his betrothal to his daughter.

Then there was Sansa. He had lost count of the number of men who had asked for her hand in marriage, but after the way her last betrothal had turned out, he was loath to put her through this again. Still, he may not have a choice; he couldn't keep turning down perfectly acceptable suitors with no good reason, unless he wanted to anger half his bannermen.

Winterfell itself was a concern as well. The castle was practically crumbling. If he asked, the king would allow him to keep some of his men here to help with the repairs, but he would also need to hire skilled workers. Builders, blacksmiths, carpenters, and cooks to feed all those hungry mouths.

And most of all, he had to find Bran and Rickon. The messenger who had gone back and forth between his camp and the Wall over the last two years had told him everything his father knew: while Theon had claimed that they were dead, Eddard Stark knew that they had survived, thanks to Hodor and Osha. As soon as the castle had fallen under his control, he'd gone to the crypt, but he had found the place empty, just like he'd expected. This hiding spot was viable for a few weeks at the most. The wildling woman had probably figured they could stay there until the search died down, and then she had led them out of the castle. The question was where were they now? Were they even alive? Even if Theon hadn't succeeded in killing them, there were many things that could go wrong when one single person had to take care of a small child, a cripple, and a halfwit on the run. What gave him hope was the fact that Shaggydog and Summer were with them, and direwolves were valuable protectors, to say the least.

There was not much he could do but send word, and even that would be difficult since Theon had had all the ravens killed. He would need to send a rider to King's Landing, informing Stannis and Renly of his victory and asking them to spread the word to the whole realm. If they were still out there, Bran and Rickon would eventually hear that they could safely come back home.

"Robb."

He sighed inwardly but didn't let his annoyance show. He should already be grateful for these few minutes of silence, given that the fate of dozens of people depended on his next decisions.

"Mother."

"The Stark's banner," she simply said.

She was right. It was the first thing he should have done. He nodded his agreement to Maester Luwin. The old man left the room to relay the order, and for the first time in two years, the direwolf head could be seen floating above Winterfell.

* * *

**ARYA**

Fortunately, fifty men and their horses made a lot of noise. This was good, since they were on a part of their journey where they couldn't avoid the main road, and if they hadn't heard them coming, they would have found themselves face-to-face with Jaime Lannister. As it was, they had been able to turn back and gallop to a place where they could stay hidden in the forest until the Kingslayer and his men where far behind them and it was safe for them to resume their ride towards Winterfell.

"How long do you think we should stay here?" she asked, already tired of doing nothing.

"It will be dark soon. We could stay for the night."

"There's at least one hour of daylight left."

"But we can't be sure they're gone. It would be safer to wait."

She hated him for being right.

"Fine."

He frowned at how chilly her voice sounded.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

She started taking down the bags of food from her saddle, knowing her silence was proof enough that she was upset, but hoping he would leave it at that. He didn't, of course.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No."

She stayed quiet as he helped her get their dinner ready and make camp for the night. They had been on the road for a little over a week, it was the first time they'd stopped so early in the day, and she didn't like it. She hated feeling like she couldn't do anything but wait. She wanted to jump ahead, right to the moment where they would be safe in Winterfell and she would be with her brother, mother and sister.

"You've been quiet all day."

She acknowledged his observation with a short nod, but still didn't speak.

"Is this about this morning?"

"No." She paused, reconsidered, and admitted, "Well, that probably didn't help."

He sighed. They hadn't talked about their kiss after that first night on the road, but as they were getting ready to leave today, she had tried to kiss him again. To say his rebuff had annoyed her would be an understatement. But this wasn't why she was upset right now. She could understand his reasoning. She could even agree with part of it. She certainly did not agree with the ridiculous idea that it would be improper, but she had admitted that they couldn't risk being distracted when they were supposed to keep alert every single moment. While she still wasn't entirely sure how she felt about this shift in their relationship, she did know that she wouldn't let him pull away from her just because he thought he had no right to want her like _that_. If he was good enough to be her friend, he was good enough to be... actually, that part was a bit of a mystery, and she'd decided not to dwell on it. What wasn't a mystery was the way she'd felt when she'd realized how deep his feelings ran. Scared and elated. And anything that made her feel this way could only be a good thing. Still, he was adamant nothing more could happen and she had agreed with him, if only temporarily.

But this morning, Arya had wanted to forget for a while, and instead of letting her, he had been all practical. In his defense, he hadn't known that she needed comforting.

"What is it then?"

"It's stupid."

"Tell me."

She looked at him to try and determine if he was ordering or asking. Seeing him open and patient instead of stubborn and irritated, she complied.

"I had a nightmare last night."

He didn't tell her it was stupid to be upset because of a dream. He didn't laugh at her for being so fearless in the face of real danger, and so unsettled by her own imagination. He didn't ask any questions. And that's what made her want to talk.

"My father. I dreamt he was killed in a raid against the Wildlings."

He could have told her that it was just a nightmare, and only natural given that her father was marching against powerful enemies. He didn't say any of that.

"We'll ask for news as soon as we reach Winterfell."

She nodded, grateful for the lack of criticism. Seeing she was still troubled, he suddenly asked, "Did you know I met your father before I met you?"

Startled, she just gaped at him, too stunned to think of anything to say.

"It's true. He came to the forge where I worked in King's Landing."

"To the..."

Her voice trailed off. Oblivious to the extent of her astonishment, he continued, "He wanted to buy my helm, but I snatched it out of his hands. I swear, I thought my master was going to kill me right there," he laughed at the memory. "Anyway, Lord Eddard asked me about my mother. And believe me, Arya, what I saw when I told him that she died when I was little was the face of a man who would do anything to stay alive for his family for as long as possible. You shouldn't worry about him."

"You met my father back in King's Landing."

Her voice was devoid of emotion, like it always was when she simply could not believe something. He frowned, surprised by her excessive reaction to what he probably considered harmless information. She knew she was somehow missing the point of his story. Something about her father staying alive. But the nightmare was forgotten, as were her worries for now. She let herself fall more than she sat down, not caring that he was now looking very concerned. He knelt down in front of her and gently lifted her chin to make her look at him. She did, but didn't give him enough time to ask questions. She had enough of her own.

"And he asked about your mother?" When he nodded uncertainly, she asked, "Why? What kind of questions?"

"The same kind Jon Arryn had asked."

"What?"

"The Hand of the..."

"I know who Jon Arryn was!"

He frowned again, and she tried to calm down. They weren't going anywhere like this. So she took a deep, relaxing breath and tried again.

"Tell me everything."

He did. About how Jon Arryn had come to visit him, had asked him about his mother, and about his work as an apprentice. About how the man had been so kind that he had been sad to hear of his passing only a few weeks later. About how Eddard Stark had come a couple of months after that and had asked the same questions. And when he was done, she asked, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He looked confused.

"I didn't think it was important."

It was. Because suddenly her silly little theory wasn't so silly anymore. This was what she had been missing from the beginning, the piece of information that made everything else make sense. If Jon Arryn had known three years ago that prince Joffrey was Jaime Lannister's bastard, which was now well-known throughout the realm, and if he had sought Gendry out... Maybe the Hand's death hadn't been as natural as everyone had thought. The echo of a conversation long forgotten came back to her. "_If one Hand can die, why not a second?... Lord Stark's the one who troubles my sleep. He has the bastard, he has the book, and soon enough he'll have the truth._"

By the Gods! How had she not understood back then? She had been admittedly young, and terrified, and lost in the dungeons, and she'd had absolutely no idea what the two men were talking about, and by the time she'd gotten back to her father, she had forgotten most of what she had heard, the reality of those sentences meddling with the fears of a young girl who had spent a night running away from dragon's skulls... But still, it seemed so obvious now. She felt like kicking herself for not coming to this realization sooner, and for doubting her own reasoning after the warhammer incident.

"Arya? Are you all right?"

She gestured for him to leave her to her thoughts for just a little longer, and though the concern was still clearly written all over his face, he complied.

_Think, Arya. Just get over the shock and think about what really matters: what do you do now?_

Later, she would need some time to analyze the role her father had probably forced on a clueless Gendry in the war for the Iron Throne.

The real question right now was what did she tell her friend? Did she even tell him anything?

The answer was obvious as soon as she looked into his eyes. She had not kept anything from him from the moment he had found out that she was a highborn girl, she was not going to start now, and certainly not with something so important. She would have killed anyone who tried to hide something like this from her.

"Sit down."

He did.

"Did you ever meet King Robert?"

The question seemed to surprise him.

"Why would I have met the King?"

She considered talking in riddles for a while, to try and get him to see the truth for himself, but that wasn't like her. Quick and efficient was always her way.

"Because you're his son."

* * *

**TBC...**


	12. Chapter 11

**Once again, thanks for the wonderful reviews. And I'm sorry for the delay, and for how short this chapter is. The next one should be up soon!**

* * *

**ROBB**

It was the first quiet moment he had with his wife since they had left King's Landing, and he almost decided to ignore the knock that interrupted them. But she smiled and motioned for him to go open the door. He gave a small sigh and stepped away from her. Maester Luwin walked in, breathless. He tried to talk, but couldn't before he had taken a few deep breath. Robb almost called for help, but then the old man said "Arya's here", and the lord of Winterfell was running down the stairs before the end of the short sentence. He covered the distance to the Great Hall faster than anyone ever had. The doors were already open. He barged in and only slowed down once he was in front of... Was that _Arya_?

"You look old," the stranger quipped.

It was definitely her.

"And you look..."

"Don't say it."

"Like a lady."

She growled at him, and they both burst out laughing, their laughter soon turning into tears as they fell into each other's arms. She clung to him like her life depended on it and he held on just as tightly, so much so that he was afraid he was hurting her, but he couldn't seem to let go. At last, she pulled away and tugged at the warm woollen dress she was wearing, complaining.

"You need to do something about the captain of your household guard. He wouldn't let me see you before I'd bathed and changed clothes. Said it wasn't appropriate. I'm sure if I'd let him, he would have wanted me to wait until my hair grew longer too. And he wouldn't let Gendry come with me."

He didn't tell her that that last part had been on his order. He had told his men that if his sister ever found her way to Winterfell, she was to be brought before him alone. He wanted to talk to her before he met the man who was largely responsible for bringing peace to the realm.

"Have you seen Mother and Sansa yet?"

She shook her head. Robb signaled to one of his guards, and the man left to get his mother and his sister. Then he grabbed Arya's hand and dragged her to the stairs that led to the lord's seat, sitting down on the lower step and waiting for her to do the same. They would have all the time in the world later to get reacquainted with each other, and to find out what the other had done for the past two or three years, but first, they had more pressing matters to attend to.

"Did Father get King Stannis' message?"

"About the Kingslayer being on his way? Yes. That's why he sent me and Gendry here. Robb... The Night's Watch left the Wall to fight off the Wildlings. Jon and Father are north of the Wall. Can you send a raven and ask for news?"

He wasn't as shaken as he could have been. When members of your family took the Black, you knew they would have to face more dangers than most men ever had to face in their entire life.

"We have no ravens left, but I sent some of my guards to the Wall to get you. They will give us news when they come back. You must have avoided the main road if you managed to miss them."

She nodded before asking, "What of Theon?"

"I cut his head off."

"I wanted to kill him myself," she grumbled, but couldn't keep her frown from turning into a satisfied smile, before she remembered. "Bran and Rickon?"

"No word of them. They must have left the crypt a few weeks after their fake death. We're trying to find them."

"How?"

Before he could explain, they heard footsteps in the room and they both turned to see Sansa and Catelyn running to them. She jumped to her feet to meet them halfway. Robb smiled at the picture the three women made, the two sisters as different as winter and summer locked in a tight embrace, Arya trying to hold back her tears while Sansa cried freely, and their mother hugging them both while sending a silent thank you to the gods. In this instant, he remembered what he had fought for.

* * *

**ARYA**

Robb had asked for a meal to be brought to them. With just the four of them around the table, it felt like something was wrong. No one said it, but they were all thinking it. Bran, Rickon, Jon and their father should be here to. Although she was sure her mother didn't think _Jon_ should be here. The point was this table was too big for just four people.

"You could have asked Gendry to join us," she noted as a cupbearer poured some wine into their cups.

"I'm not letting him starve to death, don't worry."

"I wasn't worrying." She just missed him, which was ridiculous since it'd been less than half a day since the last time she'd seen him. And she was also curious. "He's my friend. Why can't he eat with us?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you first."

"About what?"

She saw her mother and brother share a look, and suddenly she understood. Right. She was going to enjoy this.

"Are you going to legitimize him?" she asked casually. "Is this what scared Stannis and Renly into joining forces?"

While her sister's eyebrows went up to her hairline, and her mother's jaw dropped open, her brother didn't even have the courtesy of looking surprised at her bluntness.

"Yes." _His_ bluntness succeeded in stunning _her_ into silence. Wasn't he even going to ask... "When did you figure it out?"

That was better. She shrugged.

"About two weeks ago, on our way here."

"Does he know?"

"I told him," she said sharply, all pretence of nonchalance dropped as she looked her brother straight in the eye in a clear challenge.

_Tell me I shouldn't have, when secrets and treasons almost destroyed this family. Tell me I shouldn't have, and it will be the last thing you ever say to me. _

Her brother gave her a half smile.

"How did he react?"

She relaxed, glad he wasn't going to fight her on this, and she smiled to herself as she remembered.

"Like he reacts to everything that happens to him. Calmly."

The three looks she received were disbelieving, and she couldn't blame them. Anyone who didn't know Gendry would've had trouble believing her. Even knowing him as well as she did, she'd had trouble believing how composed he was. But when she thought about it now, she knew she should have expected his quiet "are you sure?" and the long silence that had followed her nod. Had it been anyone else, she would have suspected that he had always known and was just humoring her. But she'd read the surprise in his eyes. He _hadn't_ known, he'd just... accepted it.

_She_ had been more shaken than him.

Still, this was big enough that for once, he'd had a few questions. Like how she knew. If this was the reason why there seemed to be so many people trying to kill him and so many people trying to protect him. And what it meant for his future.

Sadly, this last question, the most important one, was one she had been unable to answer. She had a pretty good idea what it meant for his past and how her family had used his mere existence to manipulate Robert's brothers and defeat the Lannisters, but she didn't know what they had planned for him now, provided they had anything planned.

Was he still in danger? Would King Stannis want to get rid of this potential threat? If he became Lord Gendry Baratheon, what would become of Gendry Waters, bastard blacksmith? Was anyone going to try and use him again? Where would he go?

She had to admit, those questions seemed to trouble her more than they troubled him. He was intrigued, yes, but not dying of curiosity like she was. No, that wasn't strictly true. He was almost as curious as she was, he was just better at accepting the fact that he would only know what he needed to know in good time.

Shaking her head, she took a bite of the overcooked chicken in her plate and shifted her attention back to her brother. Now that he knew they knew, he had no reason to postpone meeting Gendry.

"So, will you send for him?"

There was only a second of hesitation before he motioned for the serving boy to come closer and he gave him the order.

A few minutes later, the Bull entered the room, his head lowered in respect.

"M'lord, m'ladies."

"Sit with us," Robb commanded.

Arya waited until he was sitting next to her to hiss "I hope I wasn't included in your 'm'ladies'."

"You do look like a lady, m'lady."

Why did everyone keep saying that? Her kicking his shin under the table wasn't enough to make his smirk disappear. Having nearly forgotten they were not alone, they were both surprised when Catelyn spoke.

"And you look like your father, Gendry."

He acknowledged the comment with a quick nod and, out of politeness, he didn't say what he was thinking, but Arya could almost hear his reply in her mind. _From what I've heard of the man, I'm not sure it's a good thing, m'lady._

She released her knife long enough to give his hand a supportive squeeze. Almost as soon as she had accepted her theory was right, she had also realized that he was going to hate the inevitable comparisons to the father he had never known. While Robert Baratheon had not been a bad person at core, he had not been a very honorable man either.

When she noticed Sansa's amused look, her mother's disapproving frown, and Robb's carefully guarded expression, she let go of his hand. The gesture had been friendly and nowhere near what she'd really wanted to do to show her support, but she needed to remember that things were different here. Being Arya Stark again was going to take some getting used to.

"So, Gendry, I assume my sister told you of your role in the war?"

"What she knew of it, m'lord."

"Which isn't much," she cut in. "Some things were easy to guess once I realized what was so special about Gendry that the Old Bear himself agreed to protect him, but others are still unclear."

"Why don't you tell me what you think you know, and I'll tell you if you're right or wrong and answer your questions?"

Answers, at long last. Now this sounded like a wonderful idea.

* * *

**TBC...**


	13. Chapter 12

**Hi guys! Sorry it's so long between updates, real life gets in the way. Thanks to those of you who are still reading :) Only one more chapter and the epilogue left and after that I'll focus on Stark Investigations**

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**ROBB**

He had hoped for more time with his little sister. After three years apart, the few hours they had spent together had been too short. They had so much to talk about. He wanted to ask her about her time in King's Landing, about the Wall, about their father and brother. And he wanted to tell her about the war, about his wife, about winning Winterfell back from Theon.

But they all needed sleep. So when the evening ended, he asked Maester Luwin to show Gendry to his bedchamber, the one he'd had prepared for him, and he suggested Arya share Sansa's chambers, knowing that they could use the time together. Arya hadn't changed much, she was just a little bit more level-headed than she used to be, but Sansa... King's Landing and the Lannister bastard had changed her. She wasn't as innocent and trusting and ladylike as she had been. He had seen the way the two sisters acted around each other, so very glad to have found each other again in spite of their quarrels as children, but also somewhat wary. They needed to get to know each other again, and he was certain after those two years apart, they could become closer siblings than they had ever been. They just needed to spend some time together.

He wished he could be part of the reunion. Unfortunately, he had responsibilities, and he could not avoid them. He sighed as he walked into the great room that morning and saw how many people were waiting for him. There were financial decisions to be made, judgments to pass, bannermen to send back home with rewards for their loyalty, requests to be heard... and a bastard to legitimize.

At the end of the day, he asked a squire to bring him Gendry. When the blacksmith came, Robb nodded towards the exit.

"Walk with me."

The Bull followed him wordlessly, and Robb waited until they were outside to begin.

"You've done a lot for my sister."

"She's done a lot for me, m'lord."

"Do you know where she is?"

"With Lady Sansa, I believe. They said something about the godswood."

Robb nodded. It made sense. While they'd hardly spent any time there as children, the place was peaceful and beautiful, perfect for a quiet conversation.

"Gendry, have you ever heard of Storm's End?"

If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

"Yes, m'lord."

"What do you know about it?"

"It's the seat of House Baratheon."

It was a short summary considering the castle's history went back thousands of years, but it was accurate.

"My father asked for you to be legitimized as soon as the war was over."

"So you told me last night, m'lord."

"What I didn't tell you was what came with it. Storm's End."

This time, his surprise showed.

"M'lord..."

"This is not open for discussion. Now that Stannis is King and Renly is his Hand, they need someone to hold the castle for them. They also need to make sure you will give up your right to the Iron Throne, and they hope that by giving you Storm's End..."

"I don't need Storm's End to give up my right to the Iron Throne. I never wanted to be king. M'lord," he added as an afterthought, realizing his interrupting him could be considered a lack of respect.

"No, my father guessed as much. You probably never wanted to be a lord either. But I'm afraid you don't have a choice. There must always be a Baratheon in Storm's End, just like there must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

"If I refuse..."

"If you refuse, King Stannis can give Storm's End to his brother, but everyone knows he won't since he still hasn't forgiven Robert for doing this very thing after the last siege. Or he can leave the Iron Throne to Renly and go back to Storm's End himself. Tell me, Gendry, given everything he's done to win the crown back from the Lannisters, do you think he will do that?"

"No, of course not."

"So if you refuse, the Baratheons will lose Storm's End. Which means..."

"Which means war."

"Exactly."

Gendry sighed.

"I'm a blacksmith. I don't know anything about running a castle."

"I know. I will give you two of my advisors, and Stannis will give you two of his, men who know Storm's End. You will have good counsel." The Bull kept silent, considering, and Robb smiled. "I didn't believe my sister when she told us you reacted calmly to everything that happened to you. But she was right. Lesser men would've run away by now. This, and my father's opinion of you, tell me you will be fine."

He handed him a scroll he had tucked in his sleeve, a letter he had worked on with King Stannis before leaving the capital, a copy of the one that was now safely kept in King's Landing's archives. Gendry took it and unrolled it, seeing the joined seals of Houses Stark and Baratheon at the bottom of the page.

"Now, _Lord_ Gendry, there's something else we need to discuss."

* * *

**ARYA**

This new Sansa was unsettling. Not in a bad way. She was as sweet as ever, but Arya could tell there was a coldness to her now, something that told her she had suffered a lot during her time as a hostage, and she would never trust as readily as she once had. It was understandable, but it was still a little strange to see her Tully blue eyes grow dark with rage whenever she mentioned Joffrey.

As they made their way back from the godswood after hours of talking together, they found Maester Luwin in the yard.

"Lady Arya, your brother wants to see you."

She looked questioningly at her sister, who just shrugged and told her she would see her at dinner. Intrigued, Arya found Robb in the Great Hall. They were the only two people here, not even a serving boy in sight, and she was reminded of how impressed she had always been with this place. It really looked gigantic when it wasn't crowded.

"Arya. Please, sit down."

She eyed him warily and stayed where she was. He looked like the Lord of Winterfell, not like the brother who had joked and laughed and cried with her last night, and she wasn't sure she liked it.

"Why did you want to see me?"

"Because there's something we need discuss."

"What is it?"

"Your wedding."

Stunned, she didn't reply at first. Out of everything he could have said, those two little words were the ones she had expected the least. To her, the matter of her wedding had been taken care of long ago, to her great satisfaction.

"Father promised me you wouldn't make me marry anyone!"

"Did he?"

She was a little unsettled by his knowing demeanour, but she stood her ground anyway.

"Yes, he did!"

"Were those his exact words?"

"Yes! Wait..."

She saw Robb smirk as she doubted her own memories. Her father had promised her that, hadn't he? She tried to picture that day as accurately as she could. She had been crying in his room, worried about what the future held for her, and he had said... What _had_ he said?

And then it came back to her.

His exact words had been "_No one is going to make you marry a stranger, Arya Stark_."

Stranger.

He had never said she wouldn't need to marry at all.

Could her father really have used such a tiny detail to lure her into a false sense of security? She couldn't deny that his phrasing had left the possibility of a wedding to someone she knew wide open.

This felt like a betrayal.

She couldn't believe her father would do that to her, and she couldn't believe her brother could be this hypocritical.

"You endangered your alliance with the Freys by marrying for love, and now you want to sell me to some disgusting old lord I barely know for political reasons? How can you do this?"

"He _is_ older than you, but disgusting seems somewhat unfair."

And he was talking to her about _fairness_? After a minute of glaring at him, she simply said, "No."

"No?"

He sounded amused.

"No," she repeated forcefully. "I didn't come back here to be used like this. If that's what you have planned for me, I'll leave."

She stormed out of the room, trying to ignore the sound of his laughing voice calling her name. She was now furious as well as hurt. He had the nerve to laugh at her like she was some child throwing a tantrum, a child who would obey once she got over the initial shock. Well, that wasn't going to happen. He would find out just how serious her threat had been soon enough, she thought as she made her way to Gendry's room. She didn't care what _Lord_ Robb had planned for him or for her, she was leaving, and she was taking her Bull with her.

She didn't bother with knocking, and she stopped abruptly when she found him looking pensively out the window, naked from the waist up. She felt the blush creep up her cheeks when he turned to face her, startled by her intrusion. She had seen him like this a few times over the years, mostly when he was working in the smithy, but here in his bedchamber, after what had happened on the road, this felt very intimate.

"Arya? What are you..."

She recovered quickly and went to the bed, picking up his shirt and throwing it in his direction. He caught it easily and put it on without question.

"Gather your things. We're leaving."

"What? Why?"

"Because my brother wants me to get married."

He had been about to obey, walking to the foot of his bed to get his coat, but he stopped at that and gave her a guarded look.

"So?"

She gaped at him. He _knew_ she didn't want to get married. He _knew_ she had fought her whole life against the fate reserved to highborn girls. He _knew_ her father had promised. And most of all, _she_ knew how relieved _he_ had been when he'd learned that she wasn't to marry anyone. How could he be so casual about it now? Had she misunderstood? Did he still think nothing could ever come out of his feelings for her, even though he would be a lord soon? Or did he think these feelings were one-sided?

She frowned at that thought. She had never given him any indication that they weren't, had she? Yes, she had asked him to kiss her, but he could have thought it was just out of curiosity. If she was honest with herself, she hadn't even known how she really felt until a few minutes ago. She'd known she thought him handsome, she'd known she trusted him more than she trusted herself, and she'd known his kiss had left her begging for more, but it wasn't until Robb had told her he intended to give her to one of his allies that she'd understood.

She couldn't do it.

She couldn't let her brother force her into a political marriage.

Not when she was in love with her stupid, bull-headed best friend.

Taking a deep breath, she walked closer to him, and words she had never thought she would ever say came out of her mouth.

"So, the only man I could ever _consider_ marrying is standing right in front of me." His grin was so big she felt like slapping it off his face. "Will you stop laughing at me, stupid? I'm trying to tell you I don't want to spend the rest of my life with anyone but you."

His expression went instantly sober, his eyes dark, his voice deep.

"Do you mean that?"

Didn't he know by now that she never said anything she didn't mean?

"Yes," she breathed.

"Good."

And he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded at once despite the lack of warning, opening for him as soon as she felt his tongue begging for entrance. Her moan didn't surprise her this time. Her arms found their way around him to bring him closer, and she felt more than she heard his groan as his body pressed against hers. When he pushed her backwards, she followed his lead without hesitation, understanding when her back hit the stone. Yes, that was much better. With the support of the warm wall behind her, and Gendry's hands on her waist, she could focus on him, and only him.

He tore his mouth away from hers, making her whimper in protest, but her complaint turned to approval when he trailed kisses down her neck, and she gave an involuntary jerk of her hips, feeling the heat invade her whole body. Running her hands up and down his back, she silently cursed the stupid shirt and tried to take it off him. He seemed to understand, because he released his hold on her just long enough to remove the cloth, and then his mouth was on hers again. And it felt so good she could hardly breathe, and his skin was so hot under her wandering fingers she thought the flames would swallow her whole, and she didn't mind because if she had to die, she wanted it to be right here in his arms.

When his hand brushed against her breast over the fabric of her dress, she abruptly jerked her head back, unable to deal with so many sensations all at once. He didn't seem put off, he just turned his attention to her throat. Her grip on his shoulders tightened as she panted for breath and tried to get him even closer to her.

"Gendry..."

She couldn't recognize her own voice, husky and needy and desperate. She needed more. Her hands left his body to work on the laces at the front of her dress. But just as she was beginning to untie them, he raised his head and gently stilled her hands with his.

"Don't."

Confused, she raised her eyes to meet his, finding them almost black with desire.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to have to tell your brother why we need to rush the wedding preparations."

Her jaw dropped open. She tried to speak, but no sound would come out of her mouth. Obviously enjoying her shock, he shook his head with a small smile, took a step back, picked up his shirt and put it back on. Then he looked at her, all traces of amusement gone from his face.

"Arya, marry me."

"What?"

"You didn't let your brother tell you, did you? About your betrothed."

"I... No, I... ran. To you," she admitted. Her voice was weak when she finally came to the obvious conclusion. "You?"

He nodded.

"Your father arranged it almost two years ago. Lord Robb told me about it today. It's their way of finally joining the Houses Stark and Baratheon." He paused, then he added, "I told your brother I wouldn't marry you without your consent. I know you never wanted this. I know it's not _you_. But after what you said earlier..." His voice trailed off and he slowly lifted her chin with his fingers to plant a soft kiss on her parted lips. "Marry me, m'lady."

And what else could she do but hit him, nod, and mutter "Stupid Bull"?

* * *

**TBC...**

**I realize Arya was the only one who wasn't expecting this, but it was fun to write anyway :D **


	14. Chapter 13

**As always, thanks so much for the wonderful reviews, I can't believe the response I got for this story :D**

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**ROBB**

A certain level of dignity was expected from him now that he was Lord of Winterfell, which meant that he had to make sure his face stayed serious as he listened to the report. But as soon as the man left the room, he exchanged a glance with his mother, and his lips stretched up into a smile. While the news they had just received was not entirely good, it certainly wasn't as bad as it could have been. His smile turned into a frown at the thought. The deceased had meant next to nothing to him, but he knew Arya had respected him. He sighed as his mother asked him if he wanted her to break the news to her, and he shook his head. Not only did he want to be there for her, he'd caught her in more than one embarrassing situations over the last couple of weeks, and he didn't want their mother to witness what he'd had to witness. While he didn't like it, he was more tolerant than Lady Stark would have been.

He was not surprised to see that his sister was not in her bedchambers, and when he found himself in front of Gendry's door, he made a point of knocking and waiting until someone let him in. He rolled his eyes at his sister dishevelled hair and Gendry's guilty look, but he didn't comment. He had already lectured Arya about this, and it had not ended well for him.

"Robb. What..." She must have noticed his expression, because instead of finishing her sentence, she half-asked, half-stated "News from the Wall."

Noticing how worried she looked, he decided to start with the good news.

"Father and Jon are alive. The rangers managed to fight off the Wildlings, they're pretty sure they won't cause any more trouble."

He could see her suppressing her first instinctive reaction of joy.

"So, why the sad face?"

He stole a glance at Gendry. It was always hard to know what he was thinking, and he hadn't talked with him much since they'd arrived, but given everything the man had done for him, Robb suspected this wouldn't be easy for him either. He sighed and turned his attention back to Arya, who was watching him with obvious anxiety.

"Mormont. He died saving Father's life. And Jon lost three fingers of his left hand fighting the Wildling who killed Mormont."

"The Old Bear is dead?"

Her voice was small, and Robb nodded as Gendry stood behind her to lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. Her hand automatically found his, bringing a sad smile to Robb's lips. Arya had always had a hard time accepting support from anyone, she had always insisted she could do everything on her own, yet there was no hesitation as she leaned back against Gendry and linked her fingers though his.

"Father is the new Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. This was Mormont's last command."

Arya nodded numbly and opened her mouth to ask something, but the words would not come, and it was Gendry who spoke up next.

"What about Yoren? Do you know what happened to him?"

"No, but the men I'd sent to get you brought a few ravens back from the Wall, I'll ask Maester Luwin to send a message today."

"Thank you."

"Arya... I'm sorry. I know Mormont was..." His voice trailed off as he realized that he actually didn't know what Mormont had meant to her, only that she had respected him and was grateful for his decision to protect her and Gendry. "Well, I'm sorry."

She gave him a small smile.

"At least Jon and Father are fine."

"Yes..."

He hesitated for a second too long, not wanting her to get her hopes up, but before he could decide if he should tell her about the other news, she noticed his indecision and pounced on him.

"Robb? What is it?"

Realizing that she was probably expecting the worst, he decided he had no other choice but to tell her.

"Father wants to send Jon to King's Landing to ask King Stannis for recruits."

"Jon? Jon is going to King's Landing? He's... He's going to stop here, right?"

He couldn't help but smile at how hopeful her voice sounded.

"If he does go to King's Landing, then yes, he'll spend a few days in Winterfell, but nothing's certain yet."

She left Gendry's side to jump into his arms and he smiled against her hair. When she pulled away, he turned to leave, noting "You might want to lace your dress up properly before dinner."

He didn't turned back to look at her, but he could almost hear her blush.

* * *

**ARYA**

She was in a bad mood.

Just because the choice had been hers didn't mean that she had to like it.

King Stannis had wanted Gendry to take on his role as Lord of Storm's End as soon as possible, and he'd had no choice but to leave Winterfell a few days after they had gotten the news from the Wall. He hadn't even gotten to see Jon when he'd come a month later.

She could have gone with Gendry. She hadn't. She'd wanted to stay for a little while longer. She'd had her reasons. First of all, she'd missed her childhood home more than she had realized, and she knew that once she set foot in Storm's End, there would be very little chance she would ever get to go back North. Her second reason was that she'd wanted to help Robb, Sansa and their mother rebuild the castle. She had wanted to see Winterfell restored to its former glory, knowing that leaving with the memory of burnt towers and crumbling walls would be too painful. And most of all, she'd wanted to stay because she'd hoped to see her brothers' safe return to Winterfell.

That had been a year ago, to the day.

She missed him. After spending almost every single moment of every single day with him for two years, being apart this long felt like torture. A torture made even crueler by the way her treacherous body seemed to deliberately choose the most inopportune of moments to remember their kisses. She had wanted to have the wedding before he left, because the way he kept stopping them when their embraces grew too passionate was driving her crazy. He'd been as stubborn as ever, telling her that there was no way he was going to risk getting her pregnant and not be there for his child's birth. She'd thought it was stupid, since Eddard Stark hadn't been there for Robb's birth, and he was an amazing father regardless. Still, she was now grateful for his foresight. Children had never been part of her plan before she'd realized how badly Gendry wanted them, and while she was ready to put aside her reservations for his sake, having a few months to get used to the idea was probably not such a bad thing.

A rider had brought a letter from him today. Gendry Baratheon wasn't too happy with himself. The letter was a long list of things he thought he had done wrong, from how he handled the financial matters to how he treated the people of Storm's End. It ended with him telling her he was a terrible lord, and he would feel much better once she was there to help him take the right decisions, because he didn't think he would ever get any better.

Stupid Bull didn't even realize that only one year ago, he wouldn't have been able to write a letter.

He also didn't know that the two men King Stannis had sent to him as counsellors regularly sent reports to King's Landing, and they sang a much different song. According to the last news she'd heard from the King, Storm's End was prospering, and even the Hand had grudgingly admitted that his nephew was doing as well as could be expected. Which she took to mean _better_ than anyone had expected.

Her quill in hand, she wrote about Winterfell looking so much better than when he'd left, about Sansa's recent betrothal to Sandor Clegane, who'd come all the way to Winterfell looking for her after he'd learnt of her safe return, and about how he was an idiot for thinking he was such a bad lord. She smiled to herself at that last sentence, but her expression grew serious again as she thought about what she was going to write next.

She had made him, _them_, wait long enough.

She hesitated, unsure of how to phrase it. And then, her decision made, she suddenly tore her letter apart and threw the pieces into the fireplace.

She would tell him all of that in person. It was time to put Winterfell in her past, where it belonged.

Satisfied with her decision, she ignored the little voice in her head that was trying to convince her she was giving up on Bran and Rickon, and she joined her family in the dining hall.

The first clue came from Grey Wind. Instead of catching the piece of meat Robb had thrown his way, the direwolf ignored it and turned his head, alert. Before Robb could ask him what was wrong, he ran, jumping up and down in front of the closed door, obviously dying to get to the other side. Startled, the Lord of Winterfell rose to his feet and opened the door for him. Grey Wind rushed out, leaving them all perplexed.

And that's when they heard the second clue. Howls.

All four of them froze for a moment, too shocked to even think about moving. And then they were all running out the door, out in the yard, out the castle gates, out on the road. And before Arya could fully understand what was happening, she found herself with her back in the snow, a huge beast licking her face with so much enthusiasm she thought she was going to suffocate. Trying to see through the happy tears that were rolling freely down her cheeks, she whispered "Nymeria."

Her direwolf gave a happy yelp at that, as if she had been afraid that Arya had forgotten her. She closed her eyes as she hugged Nymeria and tried to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

"What... How..."

"We found her north of the Wall, where Osha hid us after we left Winterfell."

Her eyes flew open at the voice and she pushed the direwolf away from her just long enough to see what was happening.

"Bran?"

Locked in a tight embrace with his mother and sister, his useless legs not even touching the ground, her brother offered her a small smile as she took in the scene in front of her. Grey Wind was wrestling with Summer and Shaggydog, Robb was hugging a boy she thought was way too big to be Rickon until she remembered that she hadn't seen him in over four years, and a tall woman she didn't recognize was watching them all quietly. Remembering what her father had told her about her brothers' escape, she stood up and walked straight to the wildling woman, Nymeria following her closely. Once she was in front of Osha, she stopped for a second, and then she threw her arms around her, muttering a choked "Thank you" against her shoulder.

Behind them, a giant happily said "Hodor" and they all laughed.

**TBC...**

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**Ok, I think I've tied all loose ends. Only the epilogue left. **


	15. Epilogue

**I know most of you wanted to see the reunion and/or the wedding, and I really tried (which explains how long you've had to wait for such a short epilogue, sorry about that by the way) but I just couldn't get my muse to work on it. Hopefully you'll like this ending anyway.**

**Once again, thanks for the wonderful reviews, and thanks to everyone who read, favorited and alerted, I can't tell you how happy I am every time I get an email from :D**

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A raven! Her heart filled with excitement as she watched the black bird approach the castle, and she swiftly started on the long climb down. Her home only had one high tower, her favorite spot in the whole place. She loved knowing that she was the only one able to climb the almost completely smooth walls, she loved seeing the ground get smaller and smaller as she made her way up, she loved feeling the eastern wind blow her long black hair away from her face, and most of all, she loved how free and powerful she felt when she reached the top. She could almost see all the way to King's Landing from up here.

Her mother had told her that she took after her uncle Bran, but she had trouble believing it, since he couldn't even walk.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she started running towards the rookery. The Frey boy her parents had taken in as a bird keeper for some political reason she didn't understand was just untying the scroll from the raven's foot. He bowed slightly when he saw her.

"Lady Lyanna."

She rolled her eyes. No matter how many times she told everyone to stop calling her a lady, no one ever listened.

"Can I see the message?"

He handed it to her. Once it was safely tucked in the belt of her breeches, she started running again, towards the yard this time. She always got excited when they received news from some other part of the Seven Kingdoms. Her father would tell her everything about the place, and her mother would tell her everything about the people who lived there, and it would feel like she had been there herself. One day, she would go. Everywhere.

She found her parents engrossed in an archery contest and she rolled her eyes again. Honestly, she didn't know why her father kept trying. While he always won with the warhammer, and sometimes managed to overpower her mother in a swordfight, she was simply unbeatable with a bow.

The message forgotten for a while, she stood next to her two younger brothers and watched in fascination as her mother's arrows found the centre of the target every single time, and her father tried to distract his opponent by placing kisses against the side of her neck, one hand on her waist, the other gently pushing her hair out of the way.

He always did that. It never helped.

After a while, her mother saw her and waved her over. She ran to them, handing the scroll to her mother as her father lifted her up in his arms.

She had heard people say that it wasn't proper for the Lady of Storm's End to read the messages before her husband did, but Gendry and Arya Baratheon had never cared much for proper, and since he always ended up going to his wife for counsel anyway, Lyanna just didn't see the point in keeping up appearances.

"What does it say?" she asked eagerly.

Her mother read the few lines, and her face became suddenly somber as she showed the scroll to her husband. A little worried by their reaction, Lyanna said hesitantly, "Father?"

He pressed a soft kiss to her temple.

"The Dragon Queen has crossed the Narrow Sea."

She knew about Daenerys Targaryen. When winter had ended and King Stannis had visited Storm's End a few months ago, she had heard him tell her parents the dragons were now big enough to cause trouble.

Her mother sighed.

"This realm will never really be at peace, will it?"

"No," her father admitted. "But we did get ten relatively peaceful years. Alliances were made, and the Seven Kingdoms are stronger than ever. She may have dragons, but we have a powerful army."

"Still, I think we should send the children to Winterfell. The Targaryen might reach Storm's End, but she'll never go this far north. They'll be safer there."

Though she liked the Starks well enough, Lyanna wanted to stay here with her parents. But just as she was about to protest, her father nodded in that stubborn way of his, the one that everyone knew meant he would not be swayed from his decision. Her mother was the only one who _sometimes_ managed to make him change his mind when he got all bull-headed, as she liked to call it. Lyanna knew that if her parents were both on the same side, there was absolutely no way she was going to win this argument. So she just sighed and asked resignedly, "For how long?"

"Until it's safe for you to come back here."

"It could take forever!"

"If I have anything to say about it, you will be back before you know it, I promise."

And because she knew together, her parents could face anything, and because she knew her uncle Robb and her uncle Rickon would fight by their side, and because she knew her father never ever broke his promises, his words gave her a flicker of hope.

**FIN**

* * *

**I feel like I should apologize for how cheesy those last lines are, but I had a big smile on my face while I was writing them, so I won't. I'm a big softie, sue me. **


End file.
